Harry Potter and the Closet Case Mafia
by Hollywood Recycle Bin
Summary: AU, SLASH set in New York 1920's. Parody of 'Bugsy Malone'. Harry Potter is caught in a war between the gay Italian mafia leader, Blaise Zambini and the homophobic mobster king Lucius Malfoy. HPRW, DMBZ, TRSS,
1. Information chapter

Title: Harry Potter and the Closet Case Mafia  
  
Disclaimer: It's only mine in my own demented little universe.  
  
Rating: PG-13 for now  
  
Spoilers: Bugsy Malone I guess, certainly not HP  
  
Category: Comedy/Parody/Romance/slightly Musical  
  
Warnings: Slash!!! Demented twistings of a perfectly innocent movie. A lot of cross-dressing and transsexuals. A lot of prostitution, repressed homosexuality, loads of OOCness and all around madness. And I almost forgotten, there are some murders as well.  
  
Pairing: HP/RW, DM/BZ references to HP/DM in the past  
  
A/N: I came up with this story because my school was putting on Bugsy Malone for Christmas and I was so obsessed over it that I couldn't think of anything else so I came up with this fic. Well, if you can't get rid of it, try slashing it.  
  
Information chapter  
  
This story is an AU and a parody of the movie Bugsy Malone. If you don't know the movie, I hope I can make this story not too confusing for you. And if you do know that movie, you will never look at it the same way again. Also if you know the story, I know I kinda took out speeches from the movie but that's because I kinda like some of the lines and some of them created quite a lot of innuendoes, which is actually how I come up with this story in the first place, and some I just couldn't figure out what else they would say. Anyway I hope you don't mind me doing that, the story won't be exactly the same, especially not the ending. I also took out some of the songs from the movie into this fic.  
  
In New York 1920's, muggle world, dark wizards (or just those with a bad reputation) lurk, far from the Ministry of Magic's clutches. Back then, magic was not as advanced as it is now and so detection spells were easy to avoid so these wizards were able to do illegal activities very easily.  
  
At this time, the Unforgivables were not yet created. Other spells that petrifies or kills can be reversed as well as poisons if the antidote is created in time. The only thing that was irreversible was the newly invented potion known as the shatter potion which, once in contact of something, will freeze that object immediately. Though the frozen object could return to its normal state within 5 minutes, if the object comes in contact with anything, no matter how small the contact it, the object will shatter into a million pieces and cannot be put back together.  
  
During this time, homosexuality was unacceptable to the point of becoming illegal in both the Wizarding and muggle world. So the homosexuals stick together to form an underground society of both muggles and wizards. One of the most popular gatherings of this society is the Fat Zam's Grand Slam speakeasy, the best and the only gay club in town. (Clubs or speakeasies are illegal then as well.) Alcohol is also illegal in the muggle world at that time, but not in the Wizarding world.  
  
When this society is discovered by the homophobic mobster king Lucius Malfoy, he does everything he can to destroy it and the man who runs it, the Italian Mafia leader Blaise Zambini who, at that time, had control of almost every illegal joint in town.  
  
Also, the transsexuals in this story use an illegal sex changing potion that wears off from 1hour to a week depending on the strength of the potion.  
  
I think I've explained enough here. I hope you enjoy this story. Anything else you want explained, just ask. 


	2. Prologue

Harry Potter and the Closet Case Mafia  
  
Prologue: Welcome to the Magical, Underground New York  
  
The tapping of broken heels could barely be heard in the rain as a pretty looking blond stumbled through the darkened streets.  
  
Someone once said that if it was raining brains, Collina Crevince wouldn't even get wet. In all of New York, they don't come much dumber that Collina the Cat Woman. To say that the transvestite was a dope would be an understatement.  
  
"Dolohov, the alleyway quick. He's making for Perito's. Crabbe, cover the back. Smith, watch the side walk," A voice said as the cat woman ran.  
  
Dumb as Collina was, she could smell trouble like other people could smell gas, but it was too late when she realized what a mistake it was to take that blind alleyway by the side of Perito's Bakery.  
  
She was at the dead end when they arrived - a gang of intimidating and muscular men in black trench coats and white hats. In each of their hands were machines that looked like giant muggle water guns.  
  
"You Crevince?" The tallest one asked.  
  
"Uh huh" was all she could think of to say.  
  
"Collina Crevince?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Also known as Collina the Cat Woman?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"The same Collina that used to be Collin Creevey?"  
  
The blonde's eyes widen with even more fear as she uttered another, "Uh huh."  
  
"The Collina that works for Fat Zam?"  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
Before anymore moves could be made, the gang pulled their triggers and white liquid shot out from their contraptions, splashing the Cat Woman and freezing her completely. One of the gang member came closer and tapped on the cross dresser, who cracked like thin ice and shattered into pieces.

* * *

In a small barber shop, a man slept in the comfortable chair as the soft music played.  
  
Flashy Filch was a cleaner for Fat Zam, his job was to use any means necessary to cover up the mobster king's tracks from the ministry, and, by Merlin, he was good at it. He was the best at knowing just what to leave behind to give the gang its reputation without leaving behind traceable clues to get them caught. But as good as Filch was, his talent couldn't help him now as the men in black trench coats burst through the door and splurged him with the potion before shattering him with a single touch.  
  
End Prologue  
  
A/N: So how was that for a prologue? Good start? Anyway I hope you enjoy it. 


	3. Introducing the Country Boy

PS: I've forgotten to tell you that all the characters are now American, except for Lucius and Narcissa. I also wanted to remind you, OOC.  
  
Chapter 1: Introducing the Country Boy  
  
Once upon a time there was a little boy who dreamed of being a star. His passion was as fiery as the red hair on his head, and it didn't matter that he was only a poor boy from a poor Wizarding family living in a small town in the middle of no where. In his heart, he knew that he can make it big one day.  
  
Ronald Weasley was the sixth son of Molly Weasley and the second to last child born. He was also the last one to leave home.  
  
Molly Weasley was a fine mother - up until the disappearance of her husband, a year after her youngest child was born. After this the woman became slightly mentally unstable and thus had driven most of her children away.  
  
The first two sons, Bill and Charlie both left when they were 17 to work, and they both send money home every month. They were both Aurors for the ministry and rarely have time to come home to visit the family. But even with the money from both brothers, it was hardly enough for the 6 of them to live comfortably.  
  
The third son, Percy, left home a year later to fulfill his dreams of becoming a journalist. He, like his older brothers, send money home as well, even if it's not as much.  
  
The next two sons were twins. Before Fred and George Weasley left, they were known as the town's most notorious pranksters. They disappeared one night at the age of 16, probably to escape their mother, who had, since they were born, treated them as a mistake. The twins never contacted the family until last year when they started sending money home. Still, no one seems to have any knowledge of where they are or what they do for the money.  
  
The youngest member of the Weasley family is Virginia Weasley. Being Molly's only daughter, she is surrounded by six brothers. Molly, fearing that her daughter will become sexually confused, tried to raise her daughter to be as feminine as possible. The result was not what she was hoping for, for the girl still spends a lot of time rolling around in the dirt with her brothers and eventually ran away from home a year ago to escape the pressure. Like Fred and George, no one ever heard from her again.  
  
And now, it was Ron's turn to fly away. And he was going to fly higher than any of them. With part of the money given by his brothers which he accumulated over the years he had hired someone to watch over his mother while he was away before leaving for New York.  
  
But life was hard for poor Ron in New York. Becoming famous was easier said than done and Ron was never taken seriously by theaters or shows. So the boy started taking part time jobs as waiters and bellboys to make ends meet. Unfortunately the boy was never good at any of these jobs and soon got himself fired.  
  
It wasn't long after that he finds himself evicted from his small apartment, thrown out on his ass to wander in the lonely streets of this cruel city. Suddenly the saying, 'If you can make it here, you can make it anywhere' held a lot more meaning as the boy sat down on the pavement, his luggage next to him, as he pondered on why he ever thought he was good enough to make it here when so many had failed.  
  
"Out of a job, huh?" a voice suddenly said, as he turned around to face a stranger with amethyst eyes and dark chocolate brown hair.  
  
"Is it that obvious?" The boy replied sarcastically, but the stranger wasn't put out, instead, he eyed the pretty red head with interest and continued talking.  
  
"You know, if you're really desperate for a job, you can always go to Fat Zam. " The man looked up and down at the red head once more before adding, "They'd have to be blind to turn you down."  
  
"How is running to an Italian mobster king going to help me?" The boy asked both sarcastically and confusedly. "I'm a singer, not a gangster. Rough stuff ain't my line."  
  
"You can go work at 'Fat Zam's Grand Slam.'" The stranger smiled.  
  
"Fat Zam's Grand Slam?"  
  
"Yes, FAT ZAM'S GRAND SLAM! The liveliest joint in town"  
  
"So let me get this straight, you want me to go work in an illegal speakeasy run by the alleged mobster king Blaise Zambini, the most notorious gangster in this city?!?" The boy said this as if the man had just suggested to him that he should take off all of his clothes and do the Cancan with him.  
  
"Well... yeah."  
  
For once in his young life, Ron Weasley appeared to have run out of words to say. The boy just sat there looking curiously at the strange man next to him as the man stood up.  
  
"Well, at least think about it. And if you do decide to go, it's at Figg Arabella's bookstore. Just tell them that Terry Boot sent you. They'll let you right in. Once you are, go down the stairs and straight down the corridor then turn left. See you later, pretty boy," He said finally before giving Ron a wink and walking away.  
  
When Terry disappeared Ron thought back to what he said.  
  
"Did he just call me pretty?"

* * *

And so, there he was at Figg's bookstore. From outside, the place doesn't seem like much. In fact, it looks positively shabby. In the front is a big sign saying, "Figg Arabella's Bookstore - A book is cheaper than a steak. Read one, learn a little and eat better."  
  
Inside the store were rows upon rows of books, the place seemed almost as big as the public library. Must be due to some sort of enlargement spell, Ron thought as he looked at the books which appeared to be at least a hundred years old each. The books store appeared to be for both muggles and wizards for there were romance novels as well as books on curses.  
  
Ron walked over to the counter where an old woman sat. She had a strange smell of cabbages and Ron thought that she looked exactly like what muggles used to think witches looked like: An old hag.  
  
"Umm. I'm here about a job? Terry Boot sent me," he said squeakily.  
  
"The sixth row honey, three shelves from the bottom, there's a book called 'Great Expectations' by Charles Dickens. Pull on it. The office is a hidden door; look for a portrait of a very blond girl in a red dress. There's a light switch next to it, press it twice, and then knock three times. Got it?"  
  
"Um...got it, I guess," The boy said before walking away to look for the book. After pulling it, the entire row was lifted up to reveal a very fancy corridor, lighted brightly by chandeliers. The red headed boy walked slowly through it as he looked up at the painted angels flying around on the ceiling.  
  
The boy's luggage was still in each of his hands for he still didn't have a place to stay, hopefully, Fat Zam will find somewhere for him.  
  
"Hey, how are you doing?" said a voice from behind him.  
  
Ron turned around to see a man in his early 20's, bespectacled in a pair of very distasteful glasses that covered his bright green eyes. He was clothed in an oversized striped black suit. The man had pale skin and a very handsome face. Except it was underneath a black mop Ron assumed was his hair. The red head ignored him and walked on but the mop was being persistent.  
  
"So, are you a dancer? A singer, right?" Then the mop looked down at the luggage. There was a beater bat sticking out of his bag, a gift which he got from his twin brothers which he kept with him all the time. "Oh, a beater," he said finally with a charming smile.  
  
"Shut up, I'm in no mood for conversation," Ron said as he brushed past the strange man, hoping that he wouldn't notice him blushing. He pulled his bowler hat down to hide his face. Why am I blushing? He thought.  
  
The man's smile morphed into a playful pout. "You don't like me?" he asked.  
  
Ron's blue eyes widen at that comment, his blush becoming even redder. His face showing as much shock, curiosity and confusion as when Terry had called him "pretty". These people are mad, he thought to himself as he reconsidered the offer of working for Fat Zam.  
  
Once again the red head tried to walk away but mop head still followed.  
  
Suddenly the handsome but considerably mad stranger reached out to touch Ron's arm. Before he could say anything, the boy jerked away.  
  
"Don't touch me!" He screamed before adding, "I'm surprised you don't stoop with all that dandruff, mop head."  
  
The boy walked away again, this time the dark haired man didn't follow but was instead brushing his shoulders and trying to tidy up his hair.  
  
TBC  
  
First chapter done. How is it? R&R 


	4. At Fag Zam's

PS I can't write in Italian or New York accent, if I do, I would need to do it all the time because everyone has an accent. Also, Ron's about 17 while Harry's 21.  
  
Also before I go on, I was wondering, does anyone here know 'Bugsy Malone'?  
  
Chapter 2: At Fag Zam's  
  
"Click, click, knock, knock, knock!"  
  
"Come in," a voice said from behind the portrait, and the wall swung open to reveal an office. Ron hesitantly walked in.  
  
"I'm here about a job? Terry sent me," he said once again while looking at the floor.  
  
"Well, come on in. I'm Blaise Zambini, but you can call me Mr. Zam" Ron could hear him smiling as he said this. With the heavy mixture of New York and Italian accent in his speech, if Ron didn't already know he was a mafia, he would certainly have thought him one now.  
  
Mr. Zam was wearing a neat, expensive looking black suit with a white rose pinned to his pocket. For someone who is known as Fat Zam, he really doesn't look that fat. In fact the man looked quite handsome with his long shiny black hair tied back into a pony tail and his dark, almost black mysterious eyes that contrasted quite nicely against his pale skin.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Zam," Ron smiled as the man stood up to shake his hand. It was then that he could see why the man was called 'Fat Zam'. The man had what appeared to be an inflated balloon inside his stomach. In Ron's opinion, the man looked like he was pregnant.  
  
"I'm Ronald Weasley," he said, shaking the man's hand and trying not to look at the bulging stomach.  
  
The man looked at him for a second. "'Course you are. Well, what brings you to Fat Zam's?"  
  
"Well, I'm looking for a job sir."  
  
"What kind of job?"  
  
"Well, Terry told me you have a speakeasy and I was wondering if there are any singing positions open there."  
  
"A singer! You're not like the rest of your family are you? Well, I suppose we could use another singer, who knows, maybe you'll become one of our star singers one day, assuming Dray doesn't get too competitive. So tell me, have you got the potion with you?"  
  
Ron was stiff for a few minutes as his brains tried to catch up with what the man was saying.  
  
"Um...potion, sir?"  
  
"Yeah, for the transformation into a girl. You gotta potion for that?"  
  
"Huh?!" Ron uttered, his ocean blue eyes as wide as saucers and his mouth dropping to the floor.  
  
"Yeah, we usually always have a spare here, but lately it's becoming rather hard to make, since the ministry's new campaign going against illegal potion making. The dancers usually get them for free since we have our own little apothecary and expert potion makers, but we're running out of ingredients right now. I'm not sure, let me check if we have any spare potions."  
  
As the man continued talking, the red head edged slowly away from him and towards the door in hopes of escaping this twisted reality. Then, the door burst open.  
  
"Hey boss...Well hello sweetheart," the man who'd just came in said as he pinched Ron's ass. Ron immediately jumped up, his dark blue bowler hat dropping off his bright red head as he spun around.  
  
"FRED?!!"  
  
"RON!!...Oh my god! I just pinched my brother's ass! Oh my god, I just pinched my brother's ass. Oh my god, I just pinched my brother's ass."  
  
Fred continued to say this over and over again as Ron remained silent, in a state of total shock.  
  
Then Fred jumped up a little as his twin walked in.  
  
"Oh my god! I just pinched my brother's ass!" George said mockingly.  
  
"Well then I guess you're a perverted fruitcake, Forge."  
  
"Well, then I guess you're a perverted fruitcake, Gred."  
  
"No, you are."  
  
"No, you are."  
  
"No, you are."  
  
"No, you are."  
  
The twins continued like this as the rest of the gang in black suits and bowler hat came in. Well, some things never change, Ron thought before he was attacked from behind by a rather short person.  
  
"Ron!" the person said as they gave him a strangling hug. It took Ron a while to decipher who the boy in the gang's outfit was. Then the 'boy's' hat fell off.  
  
"GINNY??!!"  
  
"Ron, I've missed you. Haven't seen you in ages, I knew you'd leave home someday. So what are you doing here? Are you joining the gang? It'd be great to have another Weasley here."  
  
"Oh no, the boy's gonna be a singer." Zam interjected.  
  
"Oh really, I always knew you were the girly one in the family," The 'boy' said.  
  
"Umm...I think. Urghh...I should be going now." and with that the boy burst out of the door and ran as fast as he could.

* * *

Where the hell am I? He thought, as he wondered through the corridors. After a few minutes of running the boy realized that he was completely lost. The boy sighed tiredly before sitting down on the floor. Will I ever get out of this mess?  
  
Then the boy heard a lively rhythm coming from the end of the corridor. Curiosity got the better of him as he followed it, despite the knowledge that curiosity often killed the cat. But he was no cat, was he?  
  
The music lead him to the grand entrance of what, he assumed, must be the speakeasy. The place seemed fit for royalty in Ron's opinion. There were gigantic crystal chandeliers floating brightly near the ceiling made of mirrors. The floor also appeared to be made of mirrors as well, making the place appear dizzying but very beautiful and grand. At one wall was a theatre like stage with red velvet curtains and polished wooden floor. A crowd of men in overly colorful suits and robes sat, drinking, or smoking at tables covered with cloths of the finest silk while the beautiful dancers danced around in little frilly white outfits and singing:  
  
"Anybody who is anybody  
  
Will soon walk through that door  
  
At Fat Zam's Grand Slam, speakeasy  
  
Always able to fine you a table  
  
There's room for just one more  
  
At Fat Zam's Grand Slam, speakeasy"  
  
Ron reluctantly gathered up his courage to walk in and ask for directions, half assuming that there's no way out of it, because he had somehow stumbled through some sort of loop hole in the universe and landed himself in a strange world where he must struggle to find a way out. Then he tripped and fell over, his suitcase falling with him onto something, or rather, someone.  
  
"Ouch! Watch where you're going, will you?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry." Then he looked up and saw who it was, "oh it's you, dandruff."  
  
"That beater bat could be classified as a dangerous weapon, you know."  
  
"So can anyone's broom... The bat's a gift from my brother."  
  
"So you like quidditch?"  
  
"Who doesn't?"  
  
"Watchin' or playin'?"  
  
"Watchin', I suppose."  
  
"Please sit down." The mop gestured him to a seat. Knowing the man's persistency, the red head complied. "So, what's your name?"  
  
"Ron. Ron Weasley."  
  
"Another one? How many Weasleys are there?"  
  
"Seven, not including my mother and father."  
  
"That's a big family. So, are you going to join the gang like the rest of your brothers?"  
  
"No, I'm a singer, not a hoodlum."  
  
"You're different from your brothers. I'm Harry, by the way, Harry Potter," He said, as he took Ron's hand in his own and kissed it, "At your service..."  
  
Before he could say anymore, Ron grabbed his hand and pulled him under the table because at that moment a group of men in black trench coats on top of white suits and white bowler hats burst through the door and, with their big, black water guns, started shooting out a potion that dissolved everything in its way.  
  
Ron and Harry huddled together as they hid away from the streams of clear, colorless, but dangerously corrosive liquid. Then, with an evil laughter, the gang took off, leaving the stunned guests of the speakeasy hiding under the melted tables and chairs.  
  
"OK, everybody, its ok. Is any body hurt? No? Well, then there's nothing to worry about. Back to your tables."  
  
"Repairo!" Suddenly everything went back to the way it was before, but that wasn't enough to calm everyone down.  
  
"Music, Razamataz !" he who? screamed to the man at the piano, "I wanna see everybody enjoying themselves." It still wasn't working, finally, Zam gave in to his last resort. "Ok. FREE DRINKS FOR EVERYONE!"  
  
This certainly got everyone's attention, for they all gave a loud cheer as the waiters busied themselves getting everyone drinks.  
  
At that moment, Ron realized he had had enough of this place and walked out. Harry followed.

* * *

"So, can I give you a lift?" Harry asked once Ron finally got out.  
  
"You gotta car?"  
  
"No,"  
  
"A broom?"  
  
"No,"  
  
"A portable fireplace for floo powder?"  
  
"No,"  
  
Ron rolled his eyes, "So, what are you gonna do, pick me up over your shoulders and carry me all the way there?"  
  
"Well, I can if you let me. How much do you weigh?"  
  
Ron's lips tightened before sighing loudly and walking away.  
  
"You gotta place to stay?" He asked, once again eyeing the boy's many suitcases.  
  
"Listen," the boy turned around, "I'm not into that sort of thing ok. I'm just a regular guy, just because I'm a singer and dancer doesn't make me... homosexual ok?" he said before once again walking away.  
  
"You still didn't answer my question."  
  
"No...I haven't gotta place to stay. But I'd rather live in the streets than having to cross dress or have sex with another man," he said proudly before once again turning around to walk away. The dark haired man snorted.  
  
"I promise I won't make you do anything you don't want to do." Ron could hear the smile in his voice, the red head continued walking.  
  
"I promise I won't attack you in the middle of the night or anything." The mop had once again started jogging after him. Ron continued to ignore him and walk on.  
  
"Well, let me carry your bag at least." Ron paused, considering this. Well, I have been carrying it around for days, he thought, before dropping the three bags onto the pavement. The bespectacled man smirked before going to pick them up and following the red headed boy.  
  
"So, have you eaten?" he asked after a while of silently walking after the stubborn red head.  
  
"Ever since I was a child," Ron replied sarcastically.  
  
"Oh yeah, then how come you're so skinny?"  
  
"I watch my weight."  
  
"Yeah, I do that when I'm broke too. So are you hungry?"  
  
"No," Ron said, still being stubborn.  
  
"Sure about that?" The man said, the smirk still plastered on his face. Ron considered this for a minute before the ache in his stomach took over his need to be away from the stranger.  
  
"No, I'm not hungry...I'm starving."  
  
Harry's smirk changed into a smile as he gestured for Ron to take his hand. Oh, what the hell, Ron thought, before giving him his hand and letting the man walk him away.  
  
TBC 


	5. Everything will be fine by tomorrow

A/N: Ginny had the potion to make her male so in this story I will most of the time refer to her as him. BTW, can any of you guess which character I played?  
  
Chapter 3: Everything will be fine by tomorrow.  
  
"So tell me how you could allow this to happen? Collina was one of my best!" Blaise screamed at his gang who stood silently against the wall. An identical expression on their faces as they stared at the floor.  
  
"What have you got to say for yourselves, Knuckles?" He stared at the tallest member of the gang, Goyle, a.k.a Knuckles, who avoided his gaze. As big and intimidating as the guy was, he was still terrified of his boss.  
  
"Fred? George?" The red head followed his friend's example and took to staring at the patterns on the carpet. His twin also followed him.  
  
"Gin Tonic?" Ginny looked up to his boss' angered red face before also turning away.  
  
"You call yourselves hoodlums! You're a disgrace to the profession, do you hear me? A Disgrace! And most of all, you are a disgrace to me. Fat Zam!" he patted himself on the stomach almost proudly at this. Then a stifled sob could be heard in the corner of the room.  
  
Denis Creevey, a.k.a Snake eyes, was the younger brother of the murdered Collina Crevince. The two of them were very close. Born New Yorkers, they roamed the darkened streets together and had always been there for each other through the rough times and the rougher times. Both orphans, they were the only family they have, up until they met Fat Zam, who became like family to them, as well as one of Collina's favorite lovers. He and Fat Zam were the only ones who knew Collina when she was still Collin Creevey. And now, Collina is dead.  
  
"And we all know who's behind this, don't we?" Blaise asked, a hint of sadness and anger showing in his tone.  
  
"Sure do, boss" The gang answered.  
  
"Don't need a hat full of brains to know that, do you?"  
  
"Certainly not, boss."  
  
"We all know who's monkeying us around, don't we?"  
  
"Sure do, boss."  
  
"Well who is it, you dummies!" he screamed at his gang. Zambini had never been one to control his anger.  
  
"Um..." The gang turned to look at each other, not sure whether or not to answer, they looked at their boss again  
  
"Lucius Malfoy, boss." They answered in unison as their boss fell off his chair.  
  
"DON'T YOU DARE MENTION HIS NAME IN THIS OFFICE!" He screamed as he scrambled to get up. He didn't notice the door creeping open slightly as a some what dirty and small teenage boy in overalls came into the room.  
  
"Err... boss, about my audition? You said come back tomorrow," Neville said squeakily, his round boyish face puppy like as he looked at the man with hazel brown eyes beneath bangs of dark brunette hair.  
  
"Am I going mad? Are my ears playing tricks on me? COME BACK TOMORROW NEVILLE!!!" he screamed out his frustration on the poor boy.  
  
"But today is tomorrow, Mr. Zam."  
  
"Neville, will you get out of here!" he screamed again, this time getting up to run after the fourteen year old boy, who squealed and dropped his mop before running out of the office. In his anger, Blaise didn't notice the mop and tripped, falling unceremoniously to the floor.  
  
"You ok, boss?" Gin asked.  
  
"Take it easy boss, you'll break somethin'," Knuckle said as he helped the man to get up.  
  
"Break somethin'? Sure I'll break somethin', I'll break your dumb neck! All of you! Dancers, dancers I'm surrounded by namby pamby dancers, singers, piano players, banjo players, tin whistle players, at a time when I need brains. Brains, you hear me! Brains, magic and muscles."  
  
"You've got us boss, and you've got the spell and potion experts for the magic," Knuckle said, going over to the mini bar to get his boss a drink. Unfortunately, he tripped over the discarded mop and spilled the drink over his boss' face.  
  
"YOU! You manure face...you...you... AH!" the man was so angry that he ran out of words. "The trouble is, you've got muscles where you ought to have brains. I tell you, my pet canary's got more brains than you do! You dumb salami!"  
  
At that moment the mafia boss took out his wand and muttered a spell, causing water to pour down over the office, soaking everyone and everything in it. Though not the nicest spell to use, the water cooled him down a bit.  
  
"Now get out of here, all of you," He said to the rest of the gang as the four of them walked out. He casted a drying spell and gestured for Denis to come closer and gave the boy a hug.  
  
"I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do about it now." he patted the boy on the back. "Maybe you should go home."  
  
The lithe blond boy nodded as he walked out, closing the door behind him and leaving the mobster king to his own thoughts.

* * *

Neville sighed as he continued to mop the floor. He knew he shouldn't have expected to get an audition; after all, he's only the janitor, and not the prettiest one, at that.  
  
Neville Longbottom had been working for Mr. Zam ever since he was seven when he ran away from his abusive foster parents after his real parents were put into a mental asylum. The allege mobster king had saved him from them by taking him away from them and bringing him here to the speakeasy where he grew up. Since he was only a muggle boy and a very young one, at that, he was not allowed to join the gang, so Mr. Zam gave him a job as the janitor of this place. As hot headed as the man was, the boy still saw him as a father figure and respected him.  
  
Growing up at a speakeasy, the boy grew to love dancing with a passion and had been learning it for years in hopes to join Zam's famous ensemble one day. But every time he asked Mr. Zam for an audition, his answer had always been, "Come back tomorrow, Neville."  
  
"G'night Neville," a voice took him out of his thoughts as Dean, a slim, dark skinned and beautiful dancer came out of the dressing room. The sex changing potion had already worn out and he was back in male form. Dean was the one Neville was closest to because he had been the one to help teach him how to dance.  
  
"G'night Miss Dean," he said with a smile. When he first came to the speakeasy, he found it very strange calling these men 'Miss' but they seem to prefer it to 'Mister', so he got over his uneasiness and got used to it.  
  
The other dancers came out after Dean, all of them back in their original forms and all of them saying goodbye to the small boy.  
  
"Bye Neville" they all said one at a time and blowing him a kiss.  
  
"Bye Miss Seamus, bye Miss Cedric, bye Miss Justin, bye Miss Theo, bye Miss Mickey, bye Miss Adrian, bye Miss Anthony..."  
  
"Stop crackin' your knuckles, Knuckles," The familiar Italian accent sounded from the stairs.  
  
"But that's how I got my name boss," Goyle replied stupidly.  
  
"Well knock it off and change your name," Zam said as he continued down the stairs. "DRACO! Are you ready! How much longer do you want us to wait?!" he called up to the dressing room.  
  
"In a minute honey, the potion's not worn off yet." A sweet soprano voice called down the stairs. "Unless you want me to go out and transform halfway through the journey and get arrested for using illegal potions."  
  
The man rolled his eyes but knew she was right.  
  
Neville gathered his courage once again. He was taught not to give up and so he once again walked up to the gang leader and asked him.  
  
"Boss, about my audition..."  
  
"Later Neville. I'm busy right now. Keep practicing, I'll see you tomorrow," he said once again, feeling slightly guilty because he knew he promised the boy an audition. But he was in no mood to do so and cutting the boy off he turned to the stairs and shouted. "Draco! Are you done yet?"  
  
"Just a minute darling, I'm just tidying up my hair." The blond called down, this time in a deeper baritone voice.  
  
"But yesterday you said tomorrow boss," Neville whined, causing Blaise to once again, start to loose his temper, but his guilt stopped him from screaming at him so he said what he could.  
  
"I promise you, tomorrow Neville." But the boy wouldn't stop pushing him.  
  
"But..."  
  
"I'm busy right now Neville. Busy. What part of busy don't you understand?"  
  
"But boss..."  
  
"DRACO!!" he screamed cutting the boy off once again as he turned around and came nose to nose with the man in question. Draco just stared back at him, fluttering long blond eyelashes, showing his big bright silver eyes as if silently saying, "What? I'm right here".  
  
Fat Zam took a deep breath and straightened himself up a bit before turning back to his boyfriend.  
  
"YOU spend more time prettying yourself up than there's time in the day!" He said while poking at the man's chest.  
  
Draco smirked playfully before pushing the finger away. "Listen honey, if I didn't look this good, YOU wouldn't give me the time of the day," he said, returning the gesture by poking at the man's round stomach.  
  
That made the dark haired man even angrier, his lips tightening as he pointed his fingers at the blonde's face.  
  
"I'll see YOU in the car," He said as he stomped away, shouting at Goyle to stop cracking his knuckles.  
  
Once the mobster king was gone, the blonde's cool expression melted just a bit. He turned back to Neville who was miserably mopping the floor and gave him a warm smile.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry you didn't get to audition, Neville," He said, feeling slightly sorry for the muggle boy.  
  
"It's ok, Miss Dray, it's not the first time he turned me down, and not the last time I'll ask him." Draco's smile widen, he couldn't help but admire his strength and stubbornness . He almost couldn't believe that a few years ago he'd been convinced that all muggles were pathetically weak and helpless.  
  
"Well then, good night Neville," he said as he blew the boy a kiss.  
  
"Goodnight Miss Dray" he said with a tired smile before the blond walked away.  
  
Once the star of the speakeasy was gone, Neville began to sing,  
  
"Tomorrow  
  
Tomorrow never comes  
  
What kind of a fool  
  
Do they take me for?"  
  
He went to the closet and took out the dancing shoes he'd bought from his life savings, a vain attempt at the dream he knew he could never reach.  
  
"Tomorrow  
  
A resting place for bums  
  
A trap set in the slums  
  
But I know the score,"He put on the shoes and picked up his mop, moving to the rhythm of his sad tunes.  
  
"I won't take no for an answer  
  
I was born to be a dancer now,"  
  
He tapped his foot and spun around, on and on in his complicated dance until he met up again with his discarded mop.  
  
"Tomorrow  
  
Tomorrow as they say  
  
Another working day  
  
And another chore,"  
  
Neville picked the mop up and began dancing with it, amused with the ironic contrast of sharing his dream with the bitter reality.  
  
"Tomorrow  
  
An awful price to pay  
  
I gave up yesterday  
  
But they still want more,"  
  
He thought back to the three syllable word that his boss kept repeating to him, he hated the false hope they gave him.  
  
"They are bound to compare me  
  
To Fred Astaire when I'm done"  
  
He was lost in his fantasy, the imaginary music taking over him as he imagined his audience showering him with praises.  
  
"Anyone who feels the rhythm  
  
Moving through 'em  
  
Knows it's gonna do 'em good  
  
To let the music burst out.  
  
"When you feel assured  
  
Let the people know  
  
Let your laughter loose  
  
Until your scream  
  
Becomes a love shooouuuut"  
  
The boy's head dropped, looking back down at himself, remembering who he was.  
  
"Tomorrow  
  
Tomorrow's far away  
  
Tomorrow as they say  
  
Is reserved for dreams,"  
  
He knew his tomorrow wasn't coming any time soon.  
  
"Tomorrow  
  
Tomorrow's looking grey  
  
A playground always locked  
  
Trains no winning teams  
  
Still no matter what little chance he has, no matter how hard he had to work for it, he refused to let go of the one thing he wanted in his life.  
  
"I won't take no for an answer  
  
I was born to be a dancer now."  
  
And so, he wouldn't give up. At least not yet, not now. Not when he only had this day left to go. He only needed to wait a little while longer, a little while until he reached tomorrow.  
  
TBC  
  
How was that? I know the song is very long and that I could've just taken parts of it out but I really like that song. Anyway, I hope you like this story, and hopefully the next chapter will be up soon.  
  
R&R please 


	6. Who's the blond?

Thanks to Rose Creighton for beta reading my story. This is the first time I've gotten anything beta read so thanks.  
  
Chapter 4: Who's the blond?  
  
Harry Potter took the red head to an Italian restaurant called the 'Casa di Moccolo', which is near the center of town. There were a few couples eating quietly at their tables, no doubt lovers wooing each other. The dimly lit candles on each table and the soft music gave the place an air of romance. This was definitely a place for romance, Ron thought, as he continued to follow the mop. The dark haired man led the red head to a table in the corner of the place and helped seat him. Ron quirked his eyebrows at this, but sat down anyway.  
  
"So..." Harry started.  
  
"So... Why did you bring me to a place like this if your intentions really are just to help me out? And how are you going to pay for a meal at this seemingly expensive place when you had just told me earlier that you, yourself, are broke too?" Ron queried suspiciously.  
  
Before the guy could answer, he was cut off by an auburn haired waitress.  
  
"Hey, Harry, how are you doing? Finally came home, eh? What's the occasion?" she said in a New York accent.  
  
"What? A man can't come home to visit his family without a reason?" He replied. The girl just gave him a questioning look.  
  
"Alright, alright, so I haven't gotta place to stay and I'm kinda broke, but I really do miss you Clara."  
  
"Whatever." She said before giving him a hug. "So, who's your friend?"  
  
"Oh yeah, this is Ron Weasley. He hasn't gotta place to stay either so I told him he could stay with me."  
  
"Weasley, like the ones in Fat Zam's gang?" she asked, in a hushed voice.  
  
"Oh, no he's not a hoodlum; he's a singer, just came to the city from the country side." He paused, as he turned back to the red head.  
  
"Ron, this is my little sister, Clara, Clara this is my... friend, Ron Weasley." He said, not quite sure what to introduce the boy as, Ron seemed to have noticed this but didn't say anything.  
  
Clara smirked knowingly at them, knowing very well what Harry's intention towards the teen really was, "I'll go tell mom and pops that you're here," She said before walking away.  
  
A few minutes later a man who looked almost identical to Harry but older and with hazel eyes appeared along side a woman with long, deep red hair and bright green eyes.  
  
"You're home," the woman said, as they both gave the guy a hug.  
  
"What's the occasion?" His father asked, knowingly, in an obvious Italian accent.  
  
"What, can't a guy come home to visit his family?" His parents both quirked their eyebrows in question. "So, I'm broke and don't have a place to stay, doesn't mean I don't miss you."  
  
"So, are you gonna introduce us to your friend?" The mother asked in an Irish accent  
  
"Oh yeah, momma, pops, this is Ron Weasley. Ron, these are my parents."  
  
"Nice to meet you Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter," Ron said as he shook their hands.  
  
"A Weasley, huh? You part of the gang?" The father asked, quizzically.  
  
"Um... no sir, I'm a singer," Ron said quietly  
  
"Good to know not everyone in this town's doing somethin' illegal," He said with a smirk as his wife quirked her eye brows.  
  
"What?" he said to her as she rolled her eye and walked away. James Potter gave them a smile and walked after her.  
  
"So what'll it be?" Clara said with a smile.  
  
"Who's paying for this?" Ron asked suddenly.  
  
"Don't worry," Harry said reassuringly, "Just order what you want, I'll have a talk with the family later."  
  
"Ok, so... I'll have the cozze gratinati, the stracciatella, minestrone di fagiole," he said, trying unsuccessfully to pronounce the Italian words. Harry tried to hide his smile "and for the main course, the spaghettiny con vodka e caviale and the fettuccini alla carbonara sound good, and I'll also have the tagliatelle con salmone, and also the calzone, and the polpo con limone e aglio uh...I'll also have this, this, this, this and this." He said as he pointed to the names in the menu.  
  
"And a bottle of chateau d'Yquem, please." Harry added.  
  
The man smirked after his sister left. "Why not have everything on the menu?" he asked.  
  
"I would but I didn't want to offend your parents... So, um... Harry, what do you do for a livin'?" He asked, trying to make conversation as the knee of the other man 'accidentally' brushed against his. The boy blushed but tried to ignore it.  
  
"Well... uh..." Harry uttered, not so sure how to answer that. "I work for Blaise, of course," He said, as he tried to come into contact with the blue- eyed redhead as much as possible with his leg, hoping that it would distract him from the question.  
  
"Oh really, I would've never guessed that," he replied, sarcastically, trying to hide the blush as the other's leg refused to move away from his. "So what exactly do you do for him?"  
  
"Oh...um, this and that."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Well, now I'm one of his 'talent 'scouts. You know, I go around town recruiting people to come and work for him. "  
  
"Oh...what else?" the boy asked, again, as he moved his leg away, this time successfully avoiding the touch.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"What else do you do? You said this and that, that's gotta mean more than one."  
  
"Oh well, I also...I'm also a back up. You know, like when the gang's in trouble or when they need a bit of extra fire power."  
  
Harry was glad that the food had arrived then; keeping Ron from asking what else he did for Blaise, or used to do, anyway...

* * *

A few hours later...  
  
"So... you want some dessert?" The dark haired man asked in amusement after watching the teen gobble up the food.  
  
"Sure, why not? Bring me the menu." Harry quirked his eyebrows.  
  
"You can still eat more after all of that?" Ron just smiled at him.  
  
"Alright. Hey Clara! Can we get the dessert menu please?"  
  
"So what else do you want, honey?" She asked him with a hint of amusement.  
  
"I think I'll have the zabaione and the zuppa inglese, mele al forno and the granita di limone."  
  
"And two glasses of grappa please." Harry called.  
  
"Comin' right up," she said as she walked away.  
  
Then suddenly, the gang, the same gang that had attacked Zam's speakeasy burst through the door, the same weapon in their hands.  
  
Harry grabbed Ron down under the table, his arms wrapping protectively around the red head as the gang started shooting. After a minute they were finished, giving an evil laughter once more, they headed out of the restaurant in a single line - that was until the smallest member of their gang tripped, his gun slipping out of his hands.  
  
"Macmillan, the gun!"  
  
Noticing this, Harry ran out of his hiding place, trying to grab the weapon. 'Macmillan' saw this, and quickly scrambled up, grabbing the gun out of Harry's reach and used it to hit the mop head before making an escape.  
  
"You alright?" Ron came over to him the moment the gang was gone. Harry nodded.  
  
"You know, if you really wanted to die you could have just stood still and let them cover you in that melting potion."  
  
"Harry, you alright?" the man's mother ran towards him.  
  
"Of course, he's alright, he's still standing isn't he?" His father said as he came towards him. "He's hard to kill, our Harry." The man smiled as he gave Harry some ice.  
  
Harry smiled back, "You know Ron, we can't go on meeting like this, it's bad for our health."  
  
Ron snorted and went to join the family in making sure everyone was safe.

* * *

"So thanks for the dinner." Ron said as sipped the wine; he'd just finished his dessert and was ready to leave.  
  
"Stay," Harry put his hand on the boy's, his bright green eyes hypnotic as the red head stared into them, and despite his declination before, Ron found his mouth saying, "sure."  
  
"You'll have to stay in Harry's room, the guest room's taken." Clara said to the teen as she gave her brother a knowing look. "My friend Lavender is coming over to stay with us over the summer holidays. She likes her privacy," The auburn haired woman explained. Harry mouthed a "thanks" to her as she walked pass.  
  
The green eyed mop man led the country boy up the stairs to his room.  
  
"It's not much." He said as he opened the door. It was not an elegant room, but it was a cozy one with a queen sized bed taking up most of the space and two lamps on the bed side table, giving the wooden furniture an orange glow.  
  
"It's kinda nice, actually," the red head said, as he picked up the faced down wooden frame on the bedside table. In it was a black & white photo of a younger Harry, with his hair just as messy as it was now if not more. The teen was standing next to Fat Zam who had his arms around him and another boy. The other boy had slicked back either blond or very white hair His eyes were also pale in colour, contrasting with lips that appeared to have lipstick on it, it was noticeable despite being in a black & white picture. The blond boy was wearing a white unbuttoned shirt that revealed a tattoo of the male sex symbol around his belly button. He watched as the blond leaned over to give Harry a kiss of the cheek.  
  
"So, who's the blond?" Ron asked curiously.  
  
Harry saw what Ron was looking at and grabbed the photo from him and placed it back where it was. Face down.  
  
"That's Blaise' boyfriend," He said coldly.  
  
"Oh," Ron exclaimed, before going to his luggage and rummaging through it.  
  
"I'm going to take a bath now," Ron announced as he walked into the small bath room to take a nice, relaxing bath.

* * *

When Ron walked back into the bed room he was greeted with a sight he'd never thought he'd ever see. In front of him was his host's voluptuously shaped ass.  
  
"Holly shit!" the boy screamed before turning around. "I'm sorry I didn't realize you were changing." Harry could hear his New York dialect slipping into the drawl of his Alabama accent and grinned widely.  
  
"It's ok, I should have warned you." He said as he pulled his pajama pants up. "You can turn around now." Ron did just that and was faced with the man's well defined muscles wrapped in smooth skin that seemed to glow in the moonlight from their window. On his chest, where his heart should be was a tattoo of a beating heart. The man's pajamas hung loosely on his hips, revealing parts of another tattoo that led into the waste band. The material of the man's pants were thin and Ron could lightly see the outline of the man's leg.  
  
"Interesting tattoo," Ron uttered once he came back into reality.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"So... uh, how long can I stay here?"  
  
"As long as you want."  
  
"Thanks... So where do I sleep?"  
  
"On the bed."  
  
"And you?" Ron asked hesitantly.  
  
"Where do you want me to sleep?" Harry asked, his smile wider than ever.  
  
"Umm... I think you should sleep on the bed, this is your house. I'll sleep on the floor." Ron said, courteously.  
  
Harry chuckled, "It's ok, if you're going to be living here I suggest you find an arrangement that's comfortable... besides, there's barely room to stand up in. How are you going to sleep on the floor?"  
  
Ron was silent for a while as the man got on the bed.  
  
"Listen, we can share the bed," Harry said, "I promise I won't bite... hard." Ron didn't find the man's smirk reassuring at all, but hesitantly got in anyway before turning off the lights.  
  
&  
  
I should have stayed on the floor, the boy thought, hours later. Though he had slept in the same bed with many of his brothers before, it felt different now to be alone on a bed with a half naked man he'd just met who seemed to prefer the company of other men rather than women.  
  
The red head felt the other man stirred next to him before he spun around. His nose now lightly touching Ron's ears.  
  
This is going to be a long night.

* * *

"LalalalaLAAA!" A screeching of an annoyingly high pitched voice sang as the green house shook, the glass almost breaking.  
  
A shoeless woman in a long flowing white gown sang as she wandered around the garden, admiring the flowers. Her long wavy blond hair was very messy and reached her knees and there were obvious dark circles under her blank and vacant blue eyes. It was obvious that the woman had not looked in the mirror in years.  
  
"Shh!" her husband said, putting his fingers lightly over her chapped lips. Then slowly, as if speaking to a child, he said, "I have to concentrate princess; I have a little business to attend to."  
  
Narcissa complied and stayed quiet, but continued to dance around the green house to a rhythm only she can hear.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy had gone insane almost four years ago after the disappearance of her only child, her beloved Draconis Malfoy. Her 'little dragon' had been gone since his graduation day at Hogwarts and had never been seen since.  
  
Lucius Malfoy looked at his wife sadly; he had never been a kind or gentle man, but for some reason he felt sorry for her. He had never felt or at least, never showed what he felt to anyone before in his life, no; the British mobster king had always been cold and distant, even towards his family, his only son. 'Maybe that was why the boy left,' he thought.  
  
Though Lucius had never loved his pure blooded wife and was even some what against their arranged marriage for some time, she did produce him an heir. A son that he loved (something he never felt for anyone else in his life) and for that, he was grateful for her.  
  
Thinking back, he had never been attentive to his child at all. When he was younger, he had been taught that emotions were a sign of weakness and so he kept his distant. Giving the boy everything he asked for but not the things that he needed. After the boy left, Lucius came to live in New York, it was easier to do business from here he would say, but he knew better.  
  
But it was in New York that he found Zambini, the perverse leader of the sinful society of disgusting sodomites. It was him that gave him a new goal in life. To rid the city of homosexuals. It was a great goal in his opinion, for not only did it distract him from the loss of his son but allowed him to do something good for the community with his talent and taste for tactical destruction.  
  
"Darling, when is our little dragon coming home? Isn't his summer holiday starting soon?" The woman asked in a fragile voice, taking the blond man out of his thoughts.  
  
"No princess, I don't think Dray will home anytime soon," He replied softly, hiding the pain inside of him at the mention of his son.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted as his butler arrived. "Mr. Malfoy sir, Mr. Macnair and company are here to see you. I've shown them to the conservatory, sir."  
  
Lucius kissed his princess' hand before walking away.  
  
"I shall tell Draco that you are busy when he gets home, dear."

* * *

"Greetings, everyone," the blond man said to the row of men standing completely still in a straight line. Disciplined, just like he wanted them to be.  
  
"You can relax now... Well, I would like to take this opportunity of thanking you for your work so far. Everything has gone exquisitely."  
  
"Thanks, Mr. Malfoy," They replied simultaneously.  
  
"That poufter, Fag Zam, must have had quite a shock," He said as he went to shake each of their hands one by one, handing them all each a single black rose.  
  
"Macnair, Flint, Dolohov, Crabbe, Smith. Any moment now, Zam will be crawling on his knees to me." The gang laughed.  
  
The smallest member of the gang looked around at his colleagues as the Butler walked in with a single glass of clear, verdant liquid.  
  
"Err...I don't have a flower, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
Lucius ignored him and continued, "Soon all Fag Zam and will have is a suitcase full of memories."  
  
"Mr. Malfoy...what about my flower? I don't have a flower Mr. Malfoy... Err..."  
  
The rest of gang surrounded him. Their huge bodies towering above him as the boy gave a squeak.  
  
"You dropped the gun, Macmillan." Lucius said coldly. "I heard that one of Zam's sluts tried to grab it. I don't allow mistakes here, Macmillan. You know that." as he said this, he took the glass from the butler.  
  
"No, Mr. Malfoy, please. I didn't mean to drop the gun. It just slipped out and I didn't let the man take the gun, please, anyone can make a mistake."  
  
"Shut up Macmillan. You're all washed up."  
  
"No please no mmpphh" The boy was stopped by the glass as the poison was forced down his throat. The boy dropped to the floor, his eyes becoming glassy as his body convulsed and shook, his mouth foaming with saliva.  
  
"Mr. Bells," he called the Butler. "Would you please dispose this waste at the bottom of the Hudson River."  
  
"Yes sir," The man said as he carried the boy off on his shoulders and walked away.

* * *

"Well, Minister Dumbledore, there had been 17 death reports in the last two weeks, 9 of which are my citizens. What do you suppose we do about it?" William Brookes, the mayor of muggle New York shouted at the seemingly careless and rather mad American Minister of Magic. They had been having these muggle-wizard conferences for a while now, though the muggle world is still mostly oblivious to the magical world, the minister of magic thinks that it would be better if he had the alliance of the muggle world leaders.  
  
"Don't get overexcited, mayor Brookes. We have this situation all under control. We are sending two of our best aurors to investigate this. We just hope that we have total cooperation on your part. Lemon drops?"  
  
"No thank you, Minister. I just hope that those...aurors of yours are as good as you say they are."

* * *

"Hello, Auror Snape, I'm Rita Skeeter from the Dailey Prophets," said the 'woman' with oddly curled, fake blond hair framing her heavy-jawed face and acid green robes, to the some what scary looking, vampire-like man with shoulder length black hair and very dark, almost black eyes. The 'woman' adjusted her jeweled spectacles with her thick, manicured fingers before continuing.  
  
"This is my assistant Percy Weasley, " She gestured to the young man with very bright red hair and horn rimmed glasses standing next to her, holding a notepad. Behind them a group of photographers and sound crews cramped themselves as close to the auror as much as possible, causing the man to suffocate slightly.  
  
"I would like to ask you a few questions. Auror Snape, how do you feel about going to investigate in the muggle world?"  
  
"Um..." Despite his appearance, Severus Snape was a very shy man. He hated being in public, that's why he always kept to himself, giving people a rather morbid view of him. Quite frankly, being hounded by the press scares the hell out of him, not that he would tell them that.  
  
"Auror Snape, have you identified the weapon yet?" Another reporter asked, or rather, screamed from the back.  
  
"Um... I'm afraid I can't answer that," He replied curtly  
  
"You're not at liberty to say?"  
  
"No... I don't know the answer," He said as he tried to walk away, but they continued to follow him.  
  
"Well, sir, have you located the source yet?"  
  
"Um, yeah, I mean, no, err, I mean, you'll have to ask Captain Riddle that question." Just as he said this, a very handsome man with stylish brunette hair and sparkling green eyes came out of the building. The man posed like a model for the camera as they ran from Snape to gather around him instead. Tom winked at one of the attractive female reporters.  
  
"Captain Tom Riddle," Rita cut in, "This is Rita Skeeter from the Dailey Prophet, Captain, how do you feel about being the first to investigate a wizarding crime in the muggle world?"  
  
"No comment," He replied, still posing.  
  
"How long do you think it'll take you to crack this case?"  
  
"No comment."  
  
"Have you identified the weapon yet sir?"  
  
"No comment."  
  
"Have you located the source of it yet captain?"  
  
"No comment."  
  
"Captain, is it true the weapons are being used by only one gang?"  
  
"No comment."  
  
"I fixed you a pastrami on the rye sandwich, just the way you like it, chief," Snape said as he struggled to catch up with his boss.  
  
"No comment," He repeated once more, "Now get out of here all of you, split, this is auror business and auror business we gotta do." He pushed the thick mass of reporters away before turning to the younger auror.  
  
"Alright, Snape, get ready. We're going into the muggle world."  
  
TBC  
  
Sorry for the lateness. I hope you guys like that; I think this chapter is pretty long by my standards. Anyway, please review. 


	7. Our sex lives revealed part 1

I would also like to thank my beta readers, Mandraco and Duncan. You guys protect me from the attacks of the Lord of Bad Grammars...Don't ask me where that came from, it just popped out of my head.  
  
Chapter 5: Our sex lives revealing part 1  
  
"Son?" James Potter called as Harry was walking down the stairs.  
  
"Yes, father?"  
  
"I was wondering, what happened to that nice apartment Blaise got you?" His father asked with concern.  
  
"Oh, um... the doorman was splurged; Blaise figured it wasn't safe there and I should go find some place else until he figures out what to do."  
  
His father sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if I was right in introducing him to you. It was probably my fault. I shouldn't have gotten you into this gangster mess."  
  
"Dad, if it wasn't for him, I probably would have been starving to death on the streets, and you wouldn't have been any better."  
  
"Yes, but still..." Harry didn't need to say anything; he knew what his father meant. "So, tell me about the red-head, son? He treatin' you right? He seemed like a good kid."  
  
"Oh no, we're not dating. He just needed a place to stay. That's all."  
  
"I see. So you just saw this boy on the street, think he's cute, and invited him to our home?"  
  
"No." Harry said defensively. "I met him at Fat Zam's."  
  
His father rolled his eyes. "Well, if you're sure you know what you're doing." He said before walking away.

* * *

"Hey, Blaise, can I talk to you?" The dark haired, green eyed man said as the mafia boss walked into his office. There were very few people who were allowed to call him 'Blaise'. In fact, there were only two people who called him by his first name and were left unscathed. Draco, who was his boyfriend, and Harry.  
  
"Harry, please sit down. What are you doing here so early in the morning?" The man asked as he sat down opposite the other man.  
  
"About my apartment, have you found another one for me yet?"  
  
"Unfortunately, no, during a crisis like this, it's hard to tell who's secretly working for that lounge lizard Malfoy. I'm not sure who I can trust anymore. So where are you staying right now?"  
  
"With Mama and Papa, but it's not even safe there no more. We were attacked last night by the trench coat gang." Blaise put his head in his hands and sighed.  
  
"Well, I suppose you should just lay low right now. Be careful, my Harry, I've lost a lot of good men and women to that bastard."  
  
There was silence for a few minutes.  
  
"Um, Blaise, there's also some thing else... you see I'm kinda short on cash right now and I was wonderin' if you happen to have a job available right now that I could do."  
  
Blaise smirked evilly at that.  
  
"I'm not sure if there are any jobs available right now but..." He shifted forward as his hand found Harry's thigh under the desk. "I'm sure we can figure something out."  
  
"You know I don't do jobs like that no more, Blaise." Harry stiffened, his lips tightening slightly as he said this.  
  
"Don't you want the money?" Blaise said softly as he continued to stroke Harry's thigh, his hands roaming further up his leg. Harry was silent.  
  
"Listen, don't think of it as a job, okay? I mean, when you told me that you're not gonna do this anymore, you didn't give me any warning. Come on, just one more time, for old time's sake."  
  
"What old time's sake Blaise? You stole my boyfriend then started paying me to have sex with you." Harry meant it as a joke, but it only brought on an awkward silence.  
  
"Oh, come on, you know you mean more to me than that, Harry. You're like family to me," Zam said honestly.  
  
"Well, then I'm relieved that you're an orphan. God knows what you'd do to your brothers if you did have any," Again Harry tried to cut the tension with a joke. Just then, Blaise reached over across the desk and brushed his lips against Harry's, forcing his tongue into the young man's warm mouth. Instinctively, Harry responded, massaging the other's tongue with his own.  
  
It took a few moments before Harry realized what he was doing and pushed Blaise away. Blaise looked a little annoyed.  
  
"I said I quit that job, Blaise," He said, looking down at the floor.  
  
Blaise sighed before reaching for his wallet. "Well, in that case, here." He said handing Harry some money. "I'm just lending this money to you alright? You're gonna have to pay me back later."  
  
Harry smiled brightly, taking the money and sniffing it fondly. "Thanks, Blaise." He said before giving the man a peck on the cheek and walking away.  
  
"Oh and Harry, if you ever changed your mind, you're always welcome in my bed," Blaise said before Harry left the room.

* * *

"Thmmph" Ron muffled as he stuffed the hot dog he just bought into his mouth.  
  
"No problem," Harry replied as he watched the fiery red-head take the long sausage into his mouth again, devouring the length. The dark haired man smiled. The boy was so innocent he didn't even realize what a picture he was making.  
  
"So, where are we going?" Ron asked.  
  
"Well, I was thinking, we'd go to Central Park and relax for a bit. The last few days had been rather troublesome for you and me both, I'm sure. Then maybe tonight I can take you to a Broadway show or somethin'. I know you love the stage."  
  
"Yes, I do," Ron said with a sweet little smile before taking another bite of the hotdog. "Thank you."  
  
"Well, shall we?" Harry gave Ron his arm. Ron looked at him uneasily, but took it anyway. He didn't want to be rude to someone who was being so nice to him.  
  
Harry smiled that charming smile again as he waved for a cab to take them to Central Park.

* * *

"So what are you going to do now, Ron? You won't go back to the speakeasy, will you?" Harry asked; they'd just spent the entire day together. Harry had shown Ron all of his favorite places in the city. It was rather late in the evening now as they sat in front of Harry's favorite club drinking shots of tequila and listening to soft music.  
  
"No, I definitely won't go back after that embarrassment. No, I was thinkin' I'd try my luck at the Bijoux theatre tomorrow." Ron replied with certainty.  
  
"You mean the Gilderoy Lockhart Magic show?"  
  
"He walked out. They're looking for a replacement now. It's a muggle show so I can use my magic and just act like a muggle."  
  
"Oh, he walks out every week and every week they have auditions and every week he walks back in again. But don't let that put you off." Harry said sarcastically.  
  
"Oh, I won't," Ron replied, pouting slightly as he took another shot.  
  
"So, just out of curiosity," Ron said after a few minutes. "Why is Fat Zam ?" he said as he used his hands to gesture the mafia boss's stomach shape. "He's not pregnant or something is he?"  
  
Harry gave a warm laugh. "No, he's not pregnant, Ron. Looks like it though doesn't he?"  
  
Ron nodded. "So why does he look like that? He certainly doesn't look fat, I mean he actually looked rather... handsome."  
  
"Yes he does..." Before an awkward silence (which he knew was coming) started, he told him the story.  
  
"Well, it started like this. You see the potion that can transform a man into a woman was only invented about 10 years ago. Before that, we needed to use this very long and complicated ritual. Anyway Fat Zam was one of the people who helped invent this potion. This was before he became a Mafia.  
  
"Anyway, the ministry of magic banned this potion and all the information about it was to be destroyed. They were very much against transexuals using it to transform themselves into women or men. Back then it was still illegal to be gay in the Wizarding world. So after hearing this, Fat Zam made a copy of the ingredients, then took off for the muggle world. After a while he started making these potions and selling them to rich closet case wizards. He made a lot of money from this, as well as many connections to powerful people."  
  
"What's that got to do with his bulging stomach?" Ron cut in as he took another shot he knew he should not be taking. He was surprised he hadn't passed out already; he was never that good at holding liquor. Looking at Harry he noticed that the man had drunken twice as much as he had.  
  
"Well, as you know the potion doesn't last very long, two days is the longest and Blaise decided that maybe he should have a more long lasting potion made. Anyway he started experimenting and after he lengthened the time the potion lasts to a week he started trying for one that would last even longer. Unfortunately, some thing went wrong with the potion, it had worked with animals but when he tried to use it, it went down his throat but stayed in his stomach without being digested. It reacted with the acid in the stomach or something I suppose, and caused his stomach to inflate. That's not the only thing that happened to it though, you know his stomach actually glows green in the dark too."  
  
Ron laughed.  
  
"So what happened after that?" he asked.  
  
"Well, he freaked out. His stomach bulging like that caused him to be very self conscious. After that he started using every way he could to make other parts of his body look perfect. Hence the Blaise you see today. He abandoned the experiment after that; giving the ingredients only to his illegal potion masters he hired to do the potion making for him. And then with all the money and connections he made, he started on his way to become a mafia. After the potion making, he moved on to owning brothels, then branching out to the underground dueling competition. And then his greatest accomplishment: the first homosexual speakeasy, 'The Grand Slam'.  
  
"Then he branched out even further from just wizards and then started making deals with muggles. It was highly illegal, but he was so powerful by that time that no one at the ministry could arrest him for anything." Harry paused for a while to take yet another shot of tequila. This time, Ron noticed how he sucked at the lemon before he did so and felt a light shiver.  
  
"The name 'Fat Zam' was first used by a muggle newspaper company. It was very catchy and caught on, much to Blaise' great annoyance. He's the second vainest man I've ever met, you know," Harry said as he swirled the tiny glass and looked through it at Ron's young face.  
  
"Who's the vainest then?"  
  
"His boyfriend."  
  
Then they both burst out laughing, drunkenly and loudly.  
  
"So... tell me how you came to know Fat Zam." There was silence after this.  
  
"Why this sudden interesting me, Ron?" He said with a suggestive smirk. "Not starting to fall for me now, are you?"  
  
"No!" Ron denied defensively. "Never."  
  
They both took another shot.  
  
"You don't have to be in denial, Ron." Harry draped his arms around the red headed boy and pulled himself into Ron's personal space. "I know you find me sexy. No man can escape the irresistible charm of 'Harry Potter'" His voice sounded breathless in his attempt to sound seductive in his drunkenness. Then again the man burst out laughing.  
  
"Ok, I think we've had enough to drink. Maybe we should go home." Ron said nervously, feeling the breath of the other man on his flushed cheeks, making him go even redder.  
  
Ron began hauling Harry up, his arms still draped around Ron's shoulders. "Keep it on the tab," the dark haired man called to the bartender who just nodded in reply. Then Harry turned back to Ron and wound his other arm around him before mashing his lips to the boy's soft ones.  
  
Ron's eyes widened in surprise before he pushed Harry away. The man fell to the floor in a heap. No one in the club seemed to mind that there were two men kissing, or that one of them was now lying on the floor.  
  
Shaking his head and trying not to think, Ron hauled him back up again and half dragged, half carried him to a cab for a ride back to Harry's place

* * *

After arriving back at the restaurant, Ron helped Harry throw up in the bath room. Then, Ron helped him brush his teeth.  
  
Then sitting back down on the floor, his hair even more of a mess than before, his breath smelling of mint from his toothpaste mixed with the smell of liquor and vomit on his body, and his hypnotic green eyes half closed, he asked Ron to help him out of his clothes so he could take a bath.  
  
Since it was past midnight, everyone in the house was asleep. And Ron couldn't possibly let this man who'd been so nice to him pass out unconscious in the bathroom with vomit all over him.  
  
With an exasperated sigh, Ron turned on the warm water and started unbuttoning the man's shirt.  
  
He paused slightly as he reached the trousers, absentmindedly he felt his lips which had been numb since the kiss. What the hell is wrong with you? He thought to himself, just do it, already. Biting his lips, Ron started to take off the man's pants. Upon pulling them down, he was greeted with the sight of the man's pale, shapely legs.  
  
Ok, what am I gonna do about his underwear? Ron asked himself because there was no way he was going to take them off.  
  
And why not? A part of his brain asked.  
  
Well because, he's gonna be naked and well... he's gonna be naked. That was the only reason he could come up with.  
  
And why are you so nervous about seeing him naked? Ron definitely had no answer to that one, but knew that if he did see the man naked; his life would never be the same again. Ron turned back to the mop head leaning against the wall. He gave a small moan as he was now trying in vain to take his underwear off by himself.  
  
"Can you help me with this Ron?" He murmured. Ron was surprised the man hadn't already passed out. Ron pulled the man up to his feet so that he was leaning against the wall, and then kneeling down in front of him, his hands found the waistband of the man's white linen boxers. Ron closed his eyes, trying to pull the waistband so that his fingers don't rub against the other man's thigh.  
  
Unfortunately, or fortunately, it didn't work.  
  
Ron froze. The skin was so soft contrasting against the hard muscles he knew were underneath it. The red-head still kept his eyes shut and continued with the task of stripping his host. This time, he pulled at the elastic waist band even more, hoping it wouldn't stretch.  
  
"This is ridiculous." He mumbled to himself.  
  
Then he realized now that closing his eyes had been completely useless because now, he had to take the man into the small bath tub. Ron licked his lips nervously. What now? He thought.  
  
It was at that moment that Harry decided to pass out on him as he slid from the wall he was leaning on to the floor.  
  
When Ron felt the body next to him fall the ground, he automatically opened his eyes. And there it was, what he was afraid he would see. The man was now lying on the floor, his skin so pale that he could have been mistaken for a vampire. There was a thin layer of black curls on his lower abdomen, getting thicker as it lead lower to the man's long, uncut cock. Ron bit his lips as he envisioned the length erect. He snapped out of it after a few moments and realized he'd been staring at the man's dick for five minutes already.  
  
"Get a grip on yourself!" He said again before hesitantly going back to the older man and checking his pulse. The dark haired man was deep in sleep. Ron sighed once more before he started pulling the man up, dragging him to the tub. Carefully, he placed the unresisting body into the clear, warm water. Then the red-head smiled, Harry looked so young, like a child fast asleep as he lets his mother bathe him gently.  
  
Ron gave a small smile as he reached for the soap and then started lathering the pale canvas of Harry's skin. His hands lightly caressed the man's chest, then his arms. After that, he started soaping the man's legs, all the while, trying hard not to think about what he was doing. After that, he flipped Harry over and was once again greeted with the view of that round, moon shaped ass. It scared him how tempted he was to touch it. But he didn't.  
  
Ron didn't dare touch the man's package either, so he just stopped at the man's thigh and moved on to the thick black mop on his head. The shampoo had a floral scent and Ron couldn't help getting closer and smelling it as he messaged the man's scalp.  
  
Once he was done, he picked the man up and dried him gently with a fluffy towel. Then he ran over to the drawer to get Harry's pajama bottoms. He helped Harry into them before getting the dark haired man to bed. He pulled the covers over his body before giving him a chaste kiss on his forehead and going to the bathroom to take a bath himself.  
  
Once the door was closed, Harry opened one eye and smiled broadly to himself before going to sleep.

* * *

Draco Malfoy stood alone on the balcony outside Blaise's penthouse. It was a warm summer night and he was leaning over the concrete ledge in only his red bathrobe, a lit cigarette in his hands as his pale silver eyes gazed into the lighted city of New York.  
  
Then the man felt the warm protective arms of his lover wrapping around his slim waist.  
  
Blaise nuzzled at the blondes neck, giving it light kisses and nibbling at his ear. "What are you doing out here, Dray? Come back to bed." His breath was warm against Draco, and he leaned into the other man's touch.  
  
It was three in the morning, most people were still asleep and the people who weren't, weren't the kind of people who would bother them. They were seven floors up anyway, so no one will really notice that there were two men embracing each other and that one of them was the infamous mobster king. Or that one of them had a glowing green stomach.  
  
"I'm just thinkin', that's all."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Oh, you know, this and that." Translation: he didn't want to talk about it.  
  
"Well, if anything's troubling you, you always have me, you know," Blaise said softly.  
  
"My, my, aren't you sweet? Don't let anyone else in this town hear that. You could lose your reputation, Mr. Zam," Draco said teasingly, but they both knew it was true.  
  
"So, Dray, now that I've shown you I do care, can you please tell me your last name already?"  
  
"No," The blond answered curtly. The other man shook his head and sighed.  
  
"I don't know why I even bother. How do I know I can trust you when I know almost nothing about you?"  
  
"You don't," Draco answered mysteriously as he inhaled his cigarette, like he always did, "And just because you don't know my past doesn't mean you don't know me, Blaise." He added, not meaning to sound so reassuring, but that's how it came out.  
  
Blaise tightened his hold on his boyfriend. "But I don't know what makes you... you. I don't know what you've been through, what your family is like, why you've chosen this life. If it wasn't for the money and the power, would you be here with me now?"  
  
"If I wasn't beautiful, would I be here now?" Draco countered, he turned back to face Blaise and blew a cloud of grey smoke in his face. Blaise's face was completely still for a moment, they stared into each other's eyes, black onyx eyes against the shine of silver.  
  
"I think we both know the answer to that question, Blaise. We should stop fooling ourselves. We know what we want from each other." Draco concluded coldly before turning around and walking away.  
  
"So if I lose all of my money and all of my power, you're going to leave me?" Draco stopped, but did not turn around, nor did he say anything. "I love you Dray." The words were spoken like bad news and Draco could hear both the bitterness and the hint of hope in Blaise' voice.  
  
Draco silently swallowed. "The last man who said that to me lost his home, his dignity, his pride, his innocence, and everything that he knew in his life. I fear for you, Blaise Zambini," He said before walking back into their bedroom.

* * *

Tom Riddle sneered as he threw his luggage onto the old rickety bed. The two aurors were at a very small and cheap hotel where they would be staying until they either solved their case, or their holiday started.  
  
"I don't know why we had to stay in such a horrid place."  
  
"It's to keep a low profile, sir, we wouldn't want those muggles finding out who we are," Snape replied as he started unpacking.  
  
"Yes, but I don't know why we have to stay in this god awful place? I mean, can't we keep a low profile at a nicer hotel?" Being the rich spoiled brat that he was as a child, Tom Riddle had always been accustomed to the finer things in life. And though his skill as an auror was the best of the best, and he had risked his life for others - many, many times for the safety of others - He'd never been in any situation where he was unclean for more than a day. And now he was going to have to live in this filthy place for who knows how long. The thought was as terrifying as it was disgusting.  
  
"Well, you know the ministry's having a bit of a budget problem now, sir, and not all of us can have the luxury you have." He regretted it the moment it left his mouth. But his boss said nothing as the silence hung heavily in the room.  
  
Then instantly, Severus felt a sharp sting across his face. It burned like fire and spread through out his body as he gave a slight shiver. Whether it was from pain of pleasure, he didn't know.  
  
"Don't you ever disrespect me like that again, Snape." His voice was cold, just like the expression on his face. His pale pink lips were in a tight line and his turquoise eyes like a vortex in the ocean on a hot day.  
  
"Yes, sir." Snape replied humbly, his black hair falling over his face as he stared down at the floor. Severus Snape had never worked with Captain Tom Riddle before; he was surprised no one had warned him about the man's anger.  
  
But from what he heard from other people who'd worked with him before, he was a rather relaxed man. So why was he like this to him now? Did the man hate him already? But if he did hate him, surely a man like Tom Riddle wouldn't use violence, no; he seemed more like the type of person who would act as a gentleman no matter what situation he was in.  
  
So why did he hit me? Snape thought as he turned back to the small bed.  
  
Why did I hit him like that? Tom thought. He had never hit his inferiors before, and if he did there would be a much better reason for it than that, and he would have used his wand to do it.  
  
But for some reason, he felt like he'd been waiting to hit the smaller, dark, vampire-like man, expecting it, and almost wanting it.  
  
He looked back at Severus Snape. The man said nothing and continued as if nothing had happened. Tom found himself admiring the younger man, noticing how the black robes covered his body, reminding him of black wings, his slick black hair covering his face making him even more mysterious and alluring.  
  
He wanted to hurt the man again. He knew he would.  
  
TBC  
  
OK, that made no sense right? Did any of you get what was going on? I hope you did, I know that a lot of people think this story is confusing. Well, I hope it was okay; I can't believe it took me so long to write it.   
  
Anyway in case you're wondering, Draco/Blaise have an open relationship. I'll probably go into more details on this later. And Harry WAS a prostitute. Anyway when this story is done I'm thinking of writing a prequel; it might make this story make more sense if I did. What do you guys think?  
  
Please review. 


	8. Welcome to Show Business baby!

Note for previous chapter: I forgot to tell you guys. It's illegal for muggles to sell alcohol during those times but it's ok for wizards to drink it in the muggle world and muggle rules don't apply to them. But it is illegal for wizards to trade with muggles.  
  
Warning notes: There might be some OOCness in here. And what is the difference between moaning, groaning and mewling? And I'm not quite so good with sex scenes and is also trying to keep within rate R so bear with me everyone. There will also be a lot of fluff here as well as cliché ness and man in pink outfits. You have been warned.  
  
Again, I warn you: FLUFF and CLICHÉ ness here, big time. (It's supposed to be for the story to work.)  
  
Chapter 6: Welcome to show business, baby!  
  
"Oh Veilaaaaaaaaaa!"  
  
The glass in the theatre director's hand shattered to the horrendous sound of the seemingly pretty girl's voice.  
  
Remus de Lupine, director of one of the most popular entertainment places in the city, the Bijoux Theatre, was perched on one of the elegant red velvet chairs in front of the stage as he looked pityingly and hopelessly at the dark haired woman in the Viking helmet and breastplates currently unleashing her torturous operatic voice on stage.  
  
"That's enough, Miss Chang, NEXT!" he shouted.  
  
"But I have other songs," The woman pleaded.  
  
"Yeah honey, but do you have other voices? I said, next!"  
  
The girl ran away crying. Remus couldn't care less. He was tired and infuriated, and had been since Gilderoy, his main performer and lover, left him...Again.  
  
He didn't know why he was still dating him. Every week they would have a fight and every week the guy would be unprofessional and quit, only to walk right back again, every single week. The bastard.  
  
Lupine didn't know why he was holding auditions either. He had never seen anyone with an ounce of talent show up. Maybe it was in the hope that, one of these weeks, he would find someone better and more talented than Gilderoy and replace him, finally. That would teach that pompous talent less over-paid 'performer' to walk away from Remus de Lupine. He might even be able to get over him.  
  
He looked hopefully at the twin girls dancing on the stage. They're quite good, he thought optimistically. But it was shattered when the two danced themselves into a pile off the stage.  
  
"NEXT!"  
  
This time a man in a black cloak, a bow tie and a top hat walked in.  
  
"Good evening, I am the Great Marbini, Illusionist to Kings."  
  
Oh great. Another muggle pretending to do magic. Remus rolled his eyes at the thought.  
  
"I will now perform for you a trick seen before only by the crowned heads of Europe." He took off his hat and gestured towards it, "From this hat, I will produce not one rabbit, not two rabbits... But THREE rabbits!"  
  
"NEXT NEXT NEXT !!!" the director shouted, "Don't quit your day job!"  
  
He hated magicians the most. They always reminded him of how he and Gilderoy started this theatre. Gilderoy was practically a squib when it came to useful magic, but he was good at making a show. It was he who came up with the idea to have a wizard owned muggle theatre where he could actually use what little talent he had to make a living.  
  
It was a great idea then. Now, it was just tiring. Remus sighed exhaustedly once more, before a ventriloquist walked on stage with a dummy.

* * *

Back stage  
  
"I wish they would just hurry up," Ron said nervously as he paced back and forth behind the curtains.  
  
"Quit worryin' will you? You're gonna be fine," Harry said reassuringly as he watched the red head continuously circle the vast area.  
  
"I didn't count on this many people coming here today." Harry took hold of the boy's shoulders, keeping him still and forcing him to look at him.  
  
"Listen to me. You've got no competition, ok? I've heard those people out there, and they're disastrously horrible."  
  
Ron just looked back at him hopelessly.  
  
"You're gonna be great," Harry reassured Ron again.  
  
"I look like a wreck!" Ron replied, before slumping down on a nearby chair.  
  
"You look great," The dark haired man countered, and gave the red head a smile.  
  
"NEXT!" The voice called from outside.  
  
"It's your turn now, go," Harry said, as he gave Ron a push onto the stage.

* * *

Ron stood rigidly on the stage. After all those 'NEXT's, he was more than a little nervous.  
  
"Name?" The director asked loudly.  
  
"Ron Weasley, singer," he squeaked.  
  
"The light!" The director shouted again.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Move into the light." The director repeated more specifically, "The musicals ain't set in a mine shaft, ya know."  
  
His heart raced as he clung to the microphone with both sweaty hands, as though he was a drowning swimmer, hanging on for dear life. He opened his trembling mouth, but just before the first note left his throat, he was cut off by a horrendous, inhuman screech.  
  
"REEEEEEMUS!!!"  
  
All ears turned towards the sound as a tall, blonde man, his pink cloak swirling around him, walked in with his hands on his waist and his face in a frown. It was obvious that he was trying to look indignant but the effect was lost when he repeatedly tried to blow a stray lock of yellow blonde hair from his face and failed. That, and the fact that he was clothed completely in pink.  
  
"Remus, I'm back." He said as he walked up to where Remus was sat. "I'll give you one more chance, you hear me! Else, I'm out for goo-"  
  
Before the man in pink could continue speaking, the theatre director caught his lips with his own, silencing the magician as his tongue slipped in, eliciting a moan from the other man. He spun them around so that he was on top and both of them disappeared beneath the vast sea of red velvet seats.  
  
On stage, Ron stood, completely shocked by what had happened. A single tear flowed from his eye as he realized that he had, once again, lost his chance. The boy ran off the stage.  
  
"Ron," Harry said softly, catching the boy in his arms before he could get away. The boy sobbed quietly against Harry's chest, letting the warmth envelop him and the steady heart beat calm him. His arms went around Harry's neck, as the man held him tight and brought them both down to sit on the floor.  
  
"Shh, calm down, Ron, there're a million other jobs out there. You're talented, I'm sure you'll make it big some day," He said as he rocked the boy like a child.  
  
"I'll be on the... sob... street corner.... sob ...with a hat.... sob ....to catch the dimes sob." The rest of the sentence was lost, muffled by Harry's shirt and his own tears.  
  
"No you won't, Ron, it just takes time to become a big star, that's all." Ron stopped and looked up at Harry. His voice was squeaky and his eyes were rimmed red.  
  
"I've been walking the streets of New York for six months and the only fancy steps I've done so far are avoiding the man who collects the rent. And I can't even do that properly," The red haired boy burst into tears again.  
  
"You're gonna be fine, Ron. You're special. You've got passion, I can see it in your eyes, you're gonna be a big hit one day, you'll see. And then everyone will know your name, you're gonna be famous, Ron. I know you will."  
  
"You really believe that?" Ron asked, his blue eyes sparkling with tears and hope.  
  
"Yes, I do. And until then, you'll have me. And as long as you have me, I promise you that I'll do everything in my power to help you in any way I can." And with that, the man leaned down to kiss the boy's forehead softly.  
  
They stared at each other for a few seconds, blue eyes staring into emerald green. Then instinctively Harry bent his head down to lightly press against the boy's pink lips, softly and hesitantly at first. His tongue gently probed, asking for entrance, and the boy complied. He opened his mouth and let the warm, wet tongue slip inside, moaning as it met and entwined with his own. Then the kiss became more heated, as their tongues explored one another's, getting to know every inch of the warm, silky fabric of the other's mouth. Ron's hands grabbed at Harry's already disheveled hair, and Harry's going down to squeeze the boy's ass.  
  
The kiss lasted until the both of them realized the importance of oxygen and stopped to breathe. They both panted, as Harry pointed out the fact that they were still on the floor of the Bijoux Theatre.  
  
"Let's go home then," Ron said, before they both got up and headed back to the restaurant.

* * *

Ron woke up to the sound of singing coming from the small bathroom. He grinned goofily to himself as he waited for his lover in their bed.  
  
"Morning," Harry said as he walked into the bedroom and gave Ron a smile before giving him a kiss on the lips.  
  
"Good morning to you too," Ron replied, no longer bothering to cover his southern accent as Harry slipped back into bed, his arms wrapping around Ron's lithe body. "Harry," he started.  
  
"Yes, love?"  
  
Ron blushed at the word 'love', his smile widening like he'd slept with a clothes-hanger in his mouth. He snapped himself out of it before continuing with what he was about to say.  
  
"Listen, I know you said that I can stay with you, but I really don't feel like leaching off you for the rest of my life,"  
  
"Ron, you're not leachin', it's ok. Besides, you're gonna be famous soon, remember?" He added with a smile, "By then I'll be the one leachin' of ya." Ron smiled at his comment.  
  
"I'm glad that you believe in me but-"  
  
"Of course I believe in you. And you should believe in yourself too, you know."  
  
"Yes, Harry, I know-"  
  
"Bagel?" Harry said, interrupting Ron once again as he produced a bagel from out of nowhere.  
  
"Thanks," Ron said, accepting the food and eating it hungrily before continuing with what he was saying. "Harry, do you know where I could get a job? I know you said I could stay with you but..." He let the sentence trailed away.  
  
"Why don't you go work at Fat Zam's place?"  
  
"I don't know, Harry, I mean, do you know what happened the last time?"  
  
Harry grinned knowingly, "Oh yeah, I heard."  
  
"Well, I don't think I can go back there again"  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because... I'm embarrassed alright." Harry shook his head.  
  
"Listen, Ron, do you want to be a singer or not?"  
  
"Of course I do-"  
  
"Well then get your act together and go for it. It's that simple, Ron."  
  
"Well, could you go see him with me then?"  
  
"Sure. Anything for you, love," He said as he gave Ron a peck on the cheek.  
  
"Thanks" Ron said, before they indulged themselves in a more passionate kiss.

* * *

At Fat Zam's  
  
"Hey, Harry good to see you again," Blaise said as the dark haired man entered his office. "Reconsidered my offer?" He asked in a suggestive tone as he got up from his chair.  
  
"What offer,Harry?" asked/inquired a tenor voice from behind the door, before the owner of the voice walked in.  
  
"Um..nothing, Ron. Just ...um... just a business offer, that's all. Nothing important," Harry said a little too quickly. Ron ignored it.  
  
"Well aren't you the one that said you were broke, Harry? Don't you need the money?" he said innocently.  
  
Harry smiled at Ron in affection. He held Ron in his arms, gave him a kiss and said "It's not worth it."  
  
"Ahem," Fat Zam interrupted, raising an eyebrow, "Mr. Ronald Weasley. What a lovely surprise. I thought you'd never come back. I've never seen anyone run away from me so quickly before in my life, including the time I was cursing them."  
  
"Well sir...um...Mr. Zam," he gave Harry a smile before continuing, "Let's just say I had a change of heart."  
  
"I see" he said knowingly as he eyed the couple. He inwardly congratulated Harry for being able to get this one out of the closet. The last time he saw him, he was terrified of transsexuals. Looking at the couple, he could see that they were in love.  
  
"Mr. Zam? I was wondering if your offer to me still stands." He said uncertainly. Blaise gave him a cheesy grin, showing off his very white, even teeth.  
  
"Of course it is. Weasleys are always welcome at Fat Zam's, especially one as pretty as you." He took Ron's hand and kissed it slightly. The boy blushed and pulled it away. Fat Zam, continuing to smile at him, walked over to his desk and pulled out a small vial of red liquid.  
  
"Here's the gender changing potion. There're some dresses in the changing room for you, I'm sure you'll find one that fits. I'll give you an hour to prepare, and then we can meet downstairs for the audition. The changing room is to the left behind the painting of a lady in a green dress," He said in a business-like voice and gave the bottle to Ron.  
  
"Oh and by the way," he said before Ron could leave, "Good luck." and Ron gave him a smile.

* * *

Ron walked hesitantly to the mirrored wall of the changing room. His hands gripped the vial as he stared at himself in the mirror.  
  
"It's now or never," he mumbled to himself as he held his breath and poured the concoction into his mouth and down his throat. The potion tasted ...strange - slightly over sweetened yet sour. He closed his eyes as the warm liquid spread throughout his body, giving him a tingling sensation. He felt his body melted and remolded into a different shape. He was slightly dizzy and he held onto a nearby chair, leaning on it until the tingling and the head spinning stopped.  
  
He opened his eyes and turned to the mirror. Ron was still in the blue suit and bowler hat, but the outfit no longer fitted him. His shoulders were less broad and his chest felt strangely heavy, while his limbs felt lighter. But he couldn't really see much of his body, as it was covered with the now over sized suit.  
  
Throwing off the bowler hat, he realized that his hair was still the same, but the shape of his face was different - Less angular and more curved. His lips were fuller and his red eyelashes curled upwards slightly. His hands were smaller, with longer, more graceful fingers than those he'd had before. Looking in the mirror, he thought he looked like Ginny when she was caught trying on Bill's clothes.  
  
The knock on the door startled the boy/girl as he went hesitantly to open it. On the other side was a big, muscular, tall, fair skinned man with wavy brown hair.  
  
"Hi, I'm Cedric. Zam sent me over to see if you're alright."  
  
"Oh, uh I'm fine, I just-" It was then that he realized that his voice was different - Changed from a tenor to a high and melodic soprano.  
  
"I understand. The first transformation can be a little overwhelming," Cedric said as he gave Ron a kind smile. Then he looked him up and down, and his expression changed into that of a child who had just gotten a new toy. More specifically, a little girl who'd just gotten a new doll. He took Ron by the hand and dragged him to the large closet. "Come one, let's get you something to wear."  
  
"Alright, let's see what we have here," Cedric quickly shifted through the dresses in the closet, throwing out one after the other and mumbling to himself. "No, not the pink one, it'll bring out the freckles. Not this one either, nope, nope. Oh god, this one's hideous, must be Seamus'. I should go burn this one, no not blue, and what the hell is this one doing here," he continued to mumble, shifting through the closet with ferocity.  
  
"Alright, it should be one of these three, choose the one you like best" he said finally, piling the clothes onto Ron's arms. "There's some underwear in there as well. Don't worry, it's new. I've kept it there just in case someone was unprepared."  
  
There was a long pause, and Ron wondered if the man actually expected him to strip in front of him. Apparently he did.  
  
"Oh don't be shy, it's just us girls here." Ron's face became paler.  
  
"Oh alright, fine. Sorry I scared you. I'll go away now, call me when you're done. Or if you need anything." And with that said, he walked out of the room.  
  
Ron turned back to the mirror as he began to strip. Slipping off his suit, he paused before he started unbuttoning his shirt. His eyes widened as he stared at his breasts. He had breasts! Oh (my) god, he had breasts! He thought to himself before gently touching them, cupping them in his hands and playing with the nipples. This definitely feels strange, he thought, but not exactly bad.  
  
Another pause before he started taking off his pants and underwear, pulling both of them down to find that his dick was still there, between the smooth thighs and the curved hips. His balls weren't there anymore though, which would explain his voice changing. He continued to stare at the mirror. Entranced by the image before him, never in his life would he have imagined that he'd ever be in a situation like this.  
  
Ron turned back to the dresses laid out on the chair next to him. Then he started to put them on.  
  
First he put on the underwear, with more than some difficulty, the bra strapping uncomfortably against his chest. Then he turned to the three dresses.  
  
The first one was frilly and white. Like those the dancers had worn. He placed it against his body, the skirt went a little above his knees and was a little too revealing for his tastes. So he moved on to the next one.  
  
The next one was a long evening gown which flowed like liquid down his body to pool around his feet. The dress was made of gold silk and was a little too big and fancy for him.  
  
So, he tried on the last one. This one was a dark green velvet dress with gold sequins. Gold ribbons kept the dress hanging loosely on his body. The skirt reached just below his knees and flew all around him as he spun. He looked in the mirror and smiled at the pretty girl he saw there.  
  
The knock on the door startled him.  
  
"Are you done yet?" Cedric said through the door.  
  
"Yes, you can come in now," Ron called out.  
  
"Beautiful," Cedric said as he entered the room, "You look absolutely beautiful."  
  
"Thank you," Ron replied shyly.  
  
"Hey, I brought a few friends up to help you." He said as he opened the door further to reveal two more men, both in tight black trousers and white shirts. The first one was thin, but tall with Ashen blonde hair, the other was shorter and slightly more muscular with dishwater blonde hair.  
  
"This is Adrian," he gestured to the first one, "He'll be doing your hair. And this is Michael," he gestured to the second person, "he'll be doing your make up. Now wait here while I go grab you some accessories."  
  
Ron was hurriedly ushered into a chair, as the two men attacked him with numerous hair potions and brushes.

* * *

Meanwhile, down at Fat Zam's Grand Slam.  
  
"Hey, Neville," Harry greeted as he entered the luxurious room of the speakeasy. His reflection flickered across the mirrored floor and ceiling as he walked up to the young boy mopping the floor.  
  
"Hi, Harry," the boy replied as Harry entered.  
  
"Still practicing your dance?" Harry asked, as he gave him one of his charming smiles. Neville blushed slightly before looking down at his reflection on the floor and replying meekly.  
  
"Yes, I'm still practicing, but Mr. Zam still won't see me though."  
  
"Oh, well, give it some time, Nev. He probably thinks you're still too young. Don't worry, you'll be great."  
  
"Thanks, Harry." Neville replied gratefully, glad that there was still some hope. Before he could say anything else, he was cut off by the sound of the large doors opening and the clicking of expensive shoes on the mirrored floor.  
  
"Suddenly, everybody wants to be in show business," Draco drawled as he sauntered into the room confidently. His red painted lips curved into a smile as he looked at Harry.  
  
"Oh, hi, Dray" Harry replied bitterly, "Where's Blaise?"  
  
"I dunno. Blaise is a busy man, honey, and I can't know where he is all the time. I don't own him, ya know."  
  
The dark haired man stared at the blond. It seemed time had not changed him at all, no matter how much they'd been through. Draco Malfoy was still the self-centered, vain, arrogant and snobby brat he was when Harry had met him so many years ago. And still just as beautiful.  
  
"Wanna drink?" Dray asked as Harry took a seat at one of the many tables.  
  
"Yeah, sure, a special on the rocks," He said as Draco walked over to the bar to mix him a drink.  
  
The girlish squeals coming from back stage caught their attention. Suddenly Harry felt himself swarmed by the dancers. "Hi Harry," they all said as they sat themselves down as close to the man as possible.  
  
"Hi Seamus, Dean, Anthony...Justin...um" He struggled to remember all of their names as they tried to sit themselves on his lap.  
  
"Ok girls, go feed the ducks," Draco said sharply as he returned to the table. He knew Harry had probably slept with every single one of them and probably didn't even remember all of their names.  
  
"Oh Drucilla," They whined, calling him by his stage name despite him being in his male form.  
  
"I said beat it!" Draco repeated his command again, making it clear that he was in charge. Harry was suddenly reminded of how like his father Draco was, but he dared not bring up that subject. After hearing the command the dancers walked away, albeit huffily.  
  
"So, long time no see, Harry," Draco said as he gave the other man the glass of verdant liquid and sat himself on the table in front of him, sipping his own drink.  
  
"Well, you know how it is."  
  
Neville turned his attention to the conversation as he swept the floor. It'd been a long time since there'd been any confrontation between the ex lovers, and each time had always ended with healing spells. He knew that both of them had their wands hidden up their sleeves.  
  
"You used to come and see me every night."  
  
"And you know perfectly well why I'd stopped," Harry replied, the tension in the room rising immensely. Neville, in fear of what might happen if they were left alone, intervened by moving to mop the floor under Harry's table.  
  
Draco looked at Neville with annoyance. "Neville." the boy didn't reply. "Neville," Draco repeated again in a more commanding voice. Neville still ignored him.  
  
"NEVILLE! Will you quit it and hit the shoe leather!" Draco screamed.  
  
Neville dropped his mop onto the floor and sighed. "Yes Ma'am," he said in an annoyed voice, but obeyed. He didn't dare push him further.  
  
Once the boy was gone, Draco turned back to Harry. He looked at Harry for a few minutes, his silver eyes shining with undisguised sadness, an expression rarely seen on him.  
  
"Yeah, I know why you've stopped seeing me," he said softly. "I'm sorry."  
  
The tension lessened and Harry wasn't sure what Draco was sorry about, opening up the old wound, or creating the wound in the first place.  
  
But then his manners changed suddenly, his body leaning in closer to Harry in a not so subtle, seductive manner.  
  
"I missed you, Ralf, my Ralf." Draco said as he leaned in closer, their faces only inches away as Draco ran his hand over Harry's face.  
  
Harry turned his head away abruptly. "Rafael Panucci is long dead, Draco. Get over him. There's only Harry Potter here, and he's taken."  
  
Draco's hands rested on Harry's shoulders, his body still way too close to him. "Oh come on Harry, give me a break. I've really missed you."  
  
"What about Zam?" Harry said in a vain attempt to stop Draco. In response, the blonde man laughed, his breath tickling the other man's ear  
  
"Knowing Blaise, he'd probably join in."  
  
"Oh, come on, Draco. Get off; you know I'm with someone else now."  
  
Again, Draco laughed. "Damn, I can't believe you're still sticking to those old monogamy ideal of yours after all that's happened. Even after almost two years of whoring yourself, you still believe in that shit," He said between laughter.  
  
Then he sobered up and stared deeply into the other man's deep emerald eyes. "Maybe my Ralf isn't dead after all."  
  
There were uncried tears in his eyes as the man leaned in for a kiss. Draco's lips were warm against his own and Harry responded to the familiar touch. His eyes fluttering shut as his lips parted for the warm wet tongue to enter.  
  
He pushed Draco away as an "Ahem," interrupted them.  
  
"Ron," Harry said, like a deer caught in headlights. He was racking his brain for a cover but could not find one, so instead he settled for what he wanted to say.  
  
"You look absolutely beautiful."  
  
Ron looked at him with fire in his eyes, his lips tightening into a tight line.  
  
"Your lipstick smudged," Ron said before brushing past Harry towards the stage.  
  
"Hey, I didn't know it was Christmas already," Draco commented from a seat near where Harry had sat moments ago, glancing disdainfully at Ron's outfit.  
  
"Draco, be nice," came the voice of Fat Zam, as he entered the room. He had witnessed everything, and wasn't surprised by Draco's behavior. He was usually mean to new members of Fat Zam's club, but he had also seen him kissing Harry and knew that he had caused enough trouble for the boy as it was.  
  
The blond rolled his big silver eyes at his boyfriend's comment.  
  
Ron stood silently on the large stage. Ok, forget about Harry for now. You've gotten this far, pull yourself together and sing, he told himself. Just forget about him for now.  
  
"Alright honey, I'm all ears," he heard Fat Zam say. "Oh, and by the way, do you have a stage name yet?"  
  
Ron thought about it for a few seconds, thinking back to the blonde's Christmas comment.  
  
"Poinsettia" he said finally.  
  
"Nice name," Zam replied, before gesturing for him to start.  
  
Ron held the microphone tightly in his hands as he heard the music from the large piano begin to play.  
  
"I'm feeling fine  
  
filled with emotions  
  
Stronger than wine,  
  
They give me the notion,  
  
That this strange new feeling  
  
Is something that you're feeling too."  
  
Ron gave a pretty but fake smile to the audience as he sung. His shoulders and newly acquired hips moving slowly to the music as he began to relax.  
  
"Matter of fact  
  
I'm forced to admit it,  
  
Caught in the act. (He snapped back to glare at Harry for a few seconds)  
  
And maybe we've hit it  
  
Is this strange new feeling  
  
Something that you're feeling too?"  
  
Two verses were enough, as Fat Zam noticed the death glares Ron sent Harry from the stage. He abruptly cut the audition short by clapping his hands. "Very nice honey, very nice," He said as the music stopped. "Welcome to show business," he said to the red head, who gave him a weak smile. "Thank you sir," Ron replied before walking away. "That was really great Ron, I've never really heard you sing before. You were brilliant, I told you, you would make it," Harry said with fake cheerfulness as Ron, once again, brushed him off, completely ignoring him. "Hey, Ron, wait!" he said running after the boy, "I can explain all that smoochin' stuff. Ron, wait." TBC OK, I hope that was close to enough to making up for lost time. I'm sorry that I disappeared for a long while. I'm very busy at the moment and it will be a while before I might update again. I'm sorry about that, anyway, I hope you enjoy this story and I hope that you will review it. It'll really encourage me to write more. 


	9. The detectives and the press

Well, I seem to have been lacking in reviews lately... Anyway, GCSE was a pain, I'm glad it's finally over WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.  
  
BTW, I gotta note that Snape is quite young in this fic, he's still a rookie at the auror office and very OOC. Rita and Percy are also quite OOC, I think. And once again I don't know the difference between R and NC-17. I'll try to keep it at R but, if anyone knows the difference between the two, please contact me and be my beta reader, please (author gets on hands and knees and begs pathetically) (Not that I ever written an NC-17 before)  
  
On another note, it is legal for wizards to buy property in muggle cities as it is for muggles to buy property and live in the Wizarding world assuming they are closely related to a wizard e.g. muggle-borns. But the wizards who do live there are not permitted to use magic in the muggle world.  
  
Chapter 7: The detectives and the press  
  
"Hey Ced, is Ron in there?" Harry asked almost pleadingly as the man walked out of the dressing room. He'd been waiting for about an hour in front of the locked door.  
  
"She ain't gonna see you Harry. She's really pissed; I wouldn't be surprised if she hexes you on sight. "  
  
"Well, just tell her I'm sick ok?"  
  
"Draco poisoning?" Ced asked teasingly.  
  
"No...sick of waiting around here."  
  
Ced sighed dramatically before flipping his hair and walking away, he had better things to do than monitoring other people's love lives.

* * *

In the changing room.  
  
Once Cedric walked out of the changing room, Ron let out the tears he'd been holding, allowing them to spill from his eyes as he thought back to all the mistakes he'd made in his life.  
  
"Only a fool, like fools before me  
  
I always think with me heart  
  
Only a fool, that same old story  
  
Seems I was born for the part"  
  
"It's a lesson that I've learned  
  
And a page I should have turned  
  
I shouldn't cry but I do  
  
Like an ordinary fool  
  
When their ordinary dreams  
  
Fall through"  
  
"How many times, have I mistaken  
  
Good looks and laughs for bad news?  
  
How many times have I mistaken  
  
Love songs and laughs for the blues?"  
  
"When the road I've walked before  
  
Ends alone at my front door  
  
I shouldn't cry but I do  
  
Like an ordinary fool  
  
When their ordinary dreams  
  
Fall through."

* * *

Hesitantly, Ron got changed back into his old clothes and waited for his body to change back. He wiped his tear stained face with a tissue and decided it was time to find a new place to live.  
  
Harry leaned quietly against the wooden door. He new the red head couldn't stay in there forever and the dressing room is a non apparition zone so Ron couldn't get out that way even if he knew how to. So, Harry waited.  
  
Until that split second in which he realized that he was leaning against thin air.  
  
"Oh shit" were the words that left his mouth as he fell unceremoniously to the marble floor.  
  
Fortunately, his head met with the tip of Ron's shoes.  
  
"Whadda you still doing here?" Ron asked the moment the mop fell at his feet. The potion had already worn off but the pissed-off-girlfriend expression on his face kept him from being entirely masculine.  
  
"I needed to talk to you" Harry replied as he tried to get up but slipped back onto the floor.  
  
"I have nothing to say to you" The red head said as he walked over Harry's body and began walking away.  
  
Harry quickly got himself up, his hand went to the boys shoulder. "Then just listen ok?" When Ron didn't reply nor move away, he continued.  
  
"There's nothing going on between me and Draco."  
  
At that Ron turned around. "Right, and I suppose shovin' yer tongue down his throat was just a European way of sayin' 'hi'"  
  
"Hey, I ain't the one doin' the tongue shovin' alright?"  
  
"Well, you ain't stoppin' it either"  
  
Ron tried to turn away again but Harry stopped him. He looked the boy in the eye.  
  
"Ron, listen to me ok? What Draco and I had ended a long time ago. Yes, we were in love once but not now and will never be again. I know this is completely cliché but I only have eyes for you Ron."  
  
"'s that why you closed your eyes when you kissed him?"  
  
"Stop tryin' to be a smart ass Ron, you know what I mean...Draco didn't share that kiss with me Ron, he shared it with an old lover, one that died a long time ago. One that he never got a chance to say good bye to."  
  
A few seconds of silence went by before Ron started to relax again.  
  
"So, that old lover's not coming back?" he asked hesitantly.  
  
"No, he's long gone now."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really"  
  
"Promise?" Ron asked again for reassurance, his lips forming a coy smile.  
  
"Promise."  
  
"Good, then let 'im croak." Ron said before he was back in Harry's arms.

* * *

It had been two days since the two aurors arrived at muggle New York and since Minister Dumbledore had restricted them to using magic in the muggle world, Severus had spent his time teaching Mr. I'm-too-good-for-muggles how to survive without magic. Not that he was an expert himself, but the Captain could barely step out of his own pants without using a wand. He had never met anyone so dependant on it in his entire life, no wonder he was so good with his wand, he can't do anything without it, literally.  
  
Having taken a little bit of muggle studies when he was in school, (he suspected it was why he was chosen for this job as no one else seem to give a damn about them) He managed to get along alright in this world, though he did took the wrong subway a few times when he went out to get them some food. But it was a simple mistake anyone can make and the important thing is that he managed to find his way back.  
  
It was that morning when Severus realized that they have yet to investigate anything since they've arrived.  
  
"Captain, captain." He said as he shook the brunette in the bed next to him.  
  
"Hm..." was the reply he got as the Auror captain shifted away from him.  
  
"CAPTAIN!" he shouted, this time the man covered his ears with the pillow and continued to sleep.  
  
Sev sighed deeply to himself and put his hands in his head, how Tom Riddle became the ministry's top auror was beyond him.  
  
Then, he spotted on the small table, a pitcher filled with water.  
  
A smirk spread across the man's face as the cold water was thrown from its container in one big splash.  
  
That got him up alright.  
  
The pillow was thrown onto the ground as the man jumped out of bed and within seconds, had Snape by the collar of his shirt.  
  
Tom's face was red as Severus' paled, they could feel each other breathing at the close proximity. There was silence between them and they could hear the sound of distant cars in busy streets outside.  
  
Then Tom let go of him, and it was as if nothing had happened.  
  
Snape went over to get the plate of breakfast he had prepared for them; he had made them both scrambled eggs and a glass of milk and juice. It was the only thing he knew how to make without the aid of magic.  
  
"So, I was thinking that maybe we should start on our investigation sir."  
  
"I was thinking about that too, but quite frankly, I don't know where to start. Especially without magic" the last words were said through gritted teeth, this whole, no-magic policy was obviously suffocating him.  
  
"Well, what would you usually do if you do have magic?"  
  
Tom thought for a few minutes.  
  
"Well, I would identify his magic signature and use it to track him down then monitor him until we have enough evidence to arrest him. If that doesn't work, which it usually won't then I'll track down the signatures of those who worked for him and somehow use them to lead us to Fat Zam, or to Lucius Malfoy. It's usually not that straight forward, but that would be where I start."  
  
"Alright, well then do you know who works for them?"  
  
"Yes, about 49% of this entire city works for Fat Zam, the other 49% works for Lucius Malfoy. This number, including muggles as well as migrant wizards, and more than half of these people probably don't even realize they're working for him."  
  
Severus grimaced. "Well, who do we know for sure works for them?"  
  
"We have the names of some of the leading members in their gangs but so far we haven't been able to connect them to any illegal activities. The closest we've got is alcohol trade but that's legal among wizards and we haven't been able to catch them trading liquor with muggles."  
  
"Well, do you have a list of the properties he owned in muggle New York? Maybe we can get more information if we go to those places."  
  
Tom got up and retrieved the box of Fat Zam's files, he then handed a three scrolls to his assistant.  
  
Snape unrolled it to find that they were longer than their entire room.  
  
"Knock yourself out." Tom said sarcastically. "Oh and by the way, according to the minister, the mayor of muggle New York has us on a very tight leash and we have to follow muggle laws. One of which is we are not allowed in private properties without an official warrant, which we can only get from the muggle NYPD."  
  
"Great" the younger man groaned. This is going to be a long day.

* * *

Their first trip, Tom decided, had been to the public library. They figured they needed to know all of the muggle laws so that they don't accidentally break them. After a few hours of searching they found themselves some very thick books on the laws of New York, some detective manuals, a few Sherlock Holmes novels and some private eye magazines.  
  
Then they went to stores to find the stuff needed for their 'detective work' such as microscopes and Precinct Finger-Print Kits.

* * *

It wasn't until two days later that they began the actual investigation. They've decided to start with one of the places that were attacked.  
  
'Casa di Moccolo' is one of the most famous restaurants in New York, it was the only place that was fancy, romantic and expensive, yet amazingly manages not to be seen as a snobby place made exclusively for social elites like most fancy restaurants are.  
  
"According to the papers the restaurant belongs to Mr. James Potter, a half American half Italian wizard and his wife, Lillian Potter a muggle born Irish witch with an American citizenship. The place's been open for three years, and the couple has two kids, Harry Potter and Clara Potter. I've been researching sir and so far, the only connection they have with Fat Zam and his gang is that they're Italian."  
  
"Are you sure?" Tom asked, "Well then why would Lucius' gang attack them?"  
  
"I'm sure sir, I've looked through all the files, there's nothing in there that involves anyone even closely related to the Potters."  
  
"Potter" Captain Riddle repeated, "That doesn't sound like a very Italian name."  
  
"It isn't sir, James Potter's Italian heritage came from his mother's side of the family. "  
  
"Oh...So, have you rounded up all the witnesses?"  
  
"Well, not really sir, cause the muggle witnesses have already been obliviated, but according to the ministry officials, they didn't know anything about the gangs to begin with anyway. But I did manage to get the witnesses who were witches and wizards here."  
  
The captain gave a sigh, "Alright, lets get started shall we?"  
  
So Snape started with the finger print kit, blowing baby powder on to the floor and over the clues.  
  
Going over the floor with a brush, he came across a strange long scratch on the wooden floor.  
  
"Captain, I found something."  
  
"What is it Snape?" The man said looking at the brush in the other auror's hand.  
  
Snape looked confused for a few seconds then looked at his hand. "This...This is a brush captain."  
  
Tom rolled his eyes, "Yes, I know that's a goddamn brush Snape," he said, hitting the other man on the back of the head. "I meant, what have you found?"  
  
"Oh, um...I found a scratch on the floor sir." He said as he knelt down and gestured to it.  
  
"And?"  
  
"W-well, I don't know sir, I ju-"  
  
"Of course you don't, now please stop bothering me with such stupid things. I'm trying to conduct an investigation." He said as he turned away.  
  
"Oh don't bother me while I'm trying to conduct an investigation" Snape mocked quietly in a snobbish voice.  
  
"What was that Snape?" The man turned around.  
  
"Um.. nothing sir."  
  
Then they moved on to their interrogations. Their first witness was a musician hired by the restaurant. He was a Polish squib violinist with an accent as thick as his mustache.  
  
"Now," Tom started, "We know that there were five men here. Can you tell us what else you saw?"  
  
"Nuttink. I see nuttink,"  
  
Severus rolled his eyes as he cut in, "Vell, you must have seen sometink!" he mocked "We know you're not blind."  
  
The violinist still insisted on his earlier statement. "Nuttink. Honestly Mr. Auror, I see nuttink. I came on ze boat just this year. I got papers, ok. I see nuttink, I just play music. I mind my own business, ok. I see nuttink."  
  
And that was all they got out of him.  
  
Their second witness was a red headed boy in his late teens.  
  
"Ronald Weasley is it?" Tom asked in his best I-know-your-up-to-something voice.  
  
"Yes sir," the boy replied, trying his hardest stay calm.  
  
"Tell me, Mr. Weasley, what are your relationship with Fred and George Weasley a.k.a. the twin disasters and Jerry 'Gin Tonic' Weasley?"  
  
(A/N: They don'[t know Ginny's really a girl)  
  
Ron raised his eyebrows. "Sir, what has my brothers got to do with this?"  
  
Tom moved closer to Ron, staring him straight in the eye. "We're asking the questions here Mr. Weasley." He said before moving back to his seat. "Tell us more about your brothers."  
  
"Well, I don't know much sir, those three had disappeared years ago. The twins ran away from our home in Alabama three years ago, and Gin,...Jerry followed their lead a few years after, we never heard from them again." He was only giving them half truths, but it was better than out right lying., or seeing his brother in jail.  
  
"I see" the auror replied in a deep and disbelieving manner. "So what were you doing here the night of the crime, Mr. Weasley? You don't seem the type to be in this sort of restaurant."  
  
Ron tried to keep the anger from showing on his face. "Harry Potter invited me sir. I'm a friend of his and since I don't have a place to stay in New York, he let me to stay with him. "  
  
"Well, thank you for your cooperation Mr. Weasley and if any of your brothers ever contact you. Please contact us, you can reach us at this address," Tom said before calling the next witness, Harry Potter.  
  
"So, Mr. Potter, tell us exactly what happened here?"  
  
"Well, I was having dinner with my friend Ron Weasley when suddenly these big thugs in black trench coats burst in and started shooting melting potions at us with these strange looking muggle machines. Then after a few minutes, they all stopped and walked away. But on of them tripped and dropped the machine onto the and so I went to try and grab it, but it was too late and the guy got the thing away from me and hit me in the head with it. There's still a little bump right here, see?" he said as he gestured to the little bump under the thick black forest of hair on his head.  
  
"So what did their weapon look like?"  
  
"It was big, long and black with a small tube where the potion came out and a weird looking handle."  
  
"Is there anything else that you remember about it?"  
  
"No sir."  
  
"Well, if you do, please contact us, your friend has our address."  
  
"Yes sir" Harry replied before walking away.

* * *

"So, Snape, what do you think?" Tom asked once they were out of the restaurant.  
  
"I think that Harry Potter is hiding something sir."  
  
"What about that Ron Weasley? I don't believe a word he says about those brothers of his. I think that he knows exactly where his brother is and that Harry Potter is somehow involved."  
  
"Well, maybe we should keep them under surveillance, captain"  
  
"Well, of course we will, what else can we do? It's the best lead we have so far, but we've got to go ask for permit on a tracking spell from the ministry first. We can't waste time following them ourselves, there are other places where there were attacks."  
  
"Yes Captain,"

* * *

Percy tightened his hold on his lover as he kissed his blond head. Then he tried to disentangle himself from the muscular arms.  
  
"Hmm, too early, stay in bed," came the murmured reply from under the thick mass of messy curls.  
  
"No Rita, we can't. We gotta go to work. Remember, work, as in how we get money to pay for stuff."  
  
"Too lazy, enough money, sleep better." Ricky, or Rita said as he tried to pull his young lover back into their bed.  
  
Percy swerved away and began to get dressed.  
  
"Come on Rita, if you don't, you won't have enough money to pay for me and I might leave you." It was a joke, and they both knew it.  
  
"Yeah right, like you have anywhere else to go. Besides, you love me too much." He replied confidently.  
  
"That doesn't change the fact that it's my job to get you up every morning."  
  
"Then your fired, now let me sleep,"  
  
Percy sighed; it's been five years since he had left his home in the Southern Alabama to fulfill his dreams as a journalist. He, like his brother Ron, had a very difficult time looking for a job in New York and by his third year there he was hopeless, homeless and desperate.  
  
That's when he met with the famous reporter Rita Skeeter who gave him an offer which, at the time he couldn't refuse.  
  
Percy could remember that night like it was yesterday.  
  
!Flashback!  
  
The grey clouds swept over the evening skies, creeping slowly over it until neither sun, nor stars were visible to the pale blue eyes that looked upon it. It wasn't long before the showers begun, slowly at first as the soft droplets washed away at the last shred of hope of a small town boy.  
  
The young man sat himself on the pavement, defeated after three years of struggling in this cruel city. He'd previously been kicked out of his job at a small newspaper and then later, his roach filled apartment. And now, he has no where to go.  
  
So there he sat, with nothing but his suitcase for company and not enough money for a meal, let alone a ride home. His body was slumped and he hid his face in his arms as he began to cry, his tears flowing along side the rain as it slid down his face.  
  
And for hours he sat there reflecting over old hopes and shattered dreams as the skies darkened into black and the rain poured down harder and harder as if punishing the city itself.  
  
He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice the red car that was coming his way until it stopped right in front of him.  
  
The red head looked up from his knees as the car door was opened and he was met with a big pair of high heeled magenta slippers. The man ran his hand through his drenched locks, letting the streams flow from them before looking at the person in front of him.  
  
His gaze met a tall figure. He could barely see behind his wet glasses in the dim light, but he first thought it was a strange looking man. The person held his umbrella above him and handed him a handkerchief.  
  
"Thank you," he said as he took the handkerchief and use it to wipe his glasses. Upon closer inspection, the handkerchief was pink silk with floral designs on it. The red haired man looked up again as he handed the fabric back and squinted.  
  
The person was actually a woman, or at least dressed like one. She was wearing a frilly purplish-pink robe that matched her shoes and her umbrella. Her eyes were covered with a pair of large jeweled spectacles that shimmered in the dark and her hair was yellowish blond and rigidly curled.  
  
The person gave the man her purple two inch taloned hands who took it reluctantly and got up, his muscles aching slightly.  
  
"Waiting for something?" the person asked in a low husky voice.  
  
"You could say that" he replied, he had to look up slightly for the 'woman' was taller than him.  
  
"Well whatever it is, it looks like it ain't coming...at least not to this place." When the man didn't reply, she continued. "Can I give you a lift?"  
  
"I have no where to go. Besides, it isn't safe for anyone to pick up a complete stranger."  
  
At that the person smiled, showing a gold tooth. "You're not strange, I am. Maybe you should be afraid of me."  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Good. So, since you don't have anywhere to go and we've establish that we're not afraid of each other, why don't you come stay at my place for the night."  
  
"Um...Are you sure that's appropriate, I mean you're a woman and we've just met and..."  
  
"Thought you said you weren't afraid of me" She said as she moved in closer, her thick fingers going to twirl his fiery red locks as her other man was placed on his shoulders.  
  
"Well, I, I don't but, I mean, w-we don't even know each other's name" he stuttered.  
  
She smirked as she moved her wide pink lips to his ears, "Rita Skeeter" she whispered. The man's eyes widen at that.  
  
"Rita Skeeter!" he repeated excitedly "As in Daily Prophet's most famous columnist, Rita Skeeter?"  
  
"Well, infamous is more like it according to every politician and celebrity in this country" this she said with a proud smile, "but, yes, I am Rita Skeeter, from the Daily Prophet."  
  
"Wow, I mean, I'm a fan. I read your article every time I could get my hands on it. I even got a scrap book at home. You're one of the reasons I want to become a reporter myself. I'm Percy Weasley by the way" he said with a bright child like smile.  
  
The 'women' smiled back, "Well, I guess this isn't the wrong place to be waiting after all" she said as she gestures to the car.  
  
Percy blushed as he obediently got in.

* * *

Rita's apartment was of medium size, and decorated with mostly wooden furniture with floral designs and flowers of ever color and size as well as smell with a faint scent of nail polish and other forms of makeup in the mix.  
  
"Make yourself at home," she said as they entered and Percy sat himself down on the sofa as Rita went into the small kitchen.  
  
"Here, have some," she said, placing the pizza in front of him.  
  
"Thank you," the boy said as he plunged in, though he was usually the most well mannered amongst his sibling, he hadn't eaten in days.  
  
After a long while, Percy began to slow down and Rita handed him a glass of water.  
  
"So, Percy, tell me about yourself." She said as she sat herself down, a little too close to the young man.  
  
Percy took a gulp of water before he spoke.  
  
"Well, I came to New York three years ago from Alabama where I left my family. I was the third to leave the old farm, we were struggling to keep it but, after dad left it was just too much trouble, and soon my brothers started leaving to get jobs in big cities. Um, I have five brothers one sister and from what I heard, most of them had already left home now. Only my mother and my youngest brother and sister are left, after dad left, mum's a bit...well someone had to take care of her.  
  
So, I came to New York, hoping to become a reporter, but since I never had any experience and didn't have enough money to go to extra classes for it, nobody hired me. And so I just drifted, from job to job until I got myself into this newspaper agency. It's really small and nobody knows it but...still, it was as close as I got. I stayed there for almost a year before they fired me, and then I didn't have enough money to pay for the rent and got kicked out. And then I was sitting on the street and you found me and, here I am."  
  
"I see. Percy, what if I offer you a job."  
  
Percy smiled even brighter than before, "A job? Really, what kind of job?"  
  
"Well, since you said you don't have any experience, I was thinking maybe, you could be my personal assistant for a while, and in your free time, you can take your extra classes which I'll be paying for."  
  
"Wow, this is unbelievable. Thank you so much, I...I don't know what to say I mean...I never thought you'd be so kind to me I d-," then he paused as he realized that Rita was now sitting on his lap with her arms around him. He took in a deep breath and bit his lower lip as Rita moved her face closer to him. "Um...What did you mean by 'personal assistant' again?"  
  
Her lips twisted evilly, and her large mannish hands moved to stroke his inner thigh. "Oh you know, the usual stuff, remind me when there's a press conference, take messages, set up meetings for me, occasional wake up calls in the morning, suck me under my desk, fuck my brains out etcetera, etcetera. You know, what every other assistant would do for their boss."  
  
"That's not what every assistant do for their boss!"  
  
"Oh, then you really don't have any experiences do you? Listen kid, almost every assistant and secretary sleeps with their boss; most of them just aren't paid for it, at least not directly. Now, you can either take my offer, or I can throw you back on the streets, what do you say?" Rita's hands now gripped his thigh tightly, her nails digging into the grey pants.  
  
The boy was silent.  
  
"I thought so." She said smugly.  
  
Rita moved herself to sit on the floor, her fingers stroking him through the fabric before unbuttoning it and pushing his pants down.  
  
It was only half hard as she touched the head with the tip of her tongue and coaxes it into its full length, her warm tongue like a snake slithering against it. Percy moaned as the hard length disappeared into her mouth, her tongue still stroking him as his hands griped the sofa.  
  
Percy watched with glazed eyes as the blond head bobbed up and down between his legs, up and down as his pre-come leaked and she tasted it.  
  
Then she stopped and moved up from the floor, her body hovering over his as she reached for his mouth and kissed him with her serpentine tongue, letting him taste himself on her lipsticked lips. She pressed her body against his and he thrust into her.  
  
Only to be met with another hard length.  
  
It took him a few seconds before it registered in his head and he immediately detached himself from her mouth and gasped.  
  
"Oh my god!"  
  
He sat gulping the air like a fish for a minute before he pushed 'Rita' off him.  
  
"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!" he chanted as he got up closed his eyes and started walking around the room, occasionally tripping over the furniture.  
  
Rita found it immensely amusing.  
  
Finally, Percy walked himself into a chair and sat down; he had finally stopped chanting but was still gulping like a fish. Rita walked over to him.  
  
"Ok, so I haven't been completely honest with you," the voice was deeper this time "my birth name is Ricky Santino, but despite the physical appearance, I'm a woman at heart and I'm still the reporter you so admired." The blond looked at the still silent but no longer gulping red head. "My offer still stands, you do this for me, I give you a job at the Daily Prophets, and pay for your extra classes. In addition to that, you can also have access to one of my accounts in Gringotts along with the monthly paycheck I will give you at the Prophets. You will live here with me and if you're nice, I might even give you a little extra."  
  
"And if I don't?"  
  
'Rita' moved closer once again and played with his hair. "If you don't take the offer, then I'll obliviate you and you can go back to moping on the streets until you can somehow get your ass back to whatever hick town you're from and be a dignified loser for the rest of your life." At that, the cross dresser moved his/her hands down to his still hard cock and squeeze, eliciting a squeak from the man as he realized that he still hadn't put his pants back on.  
  
"So," she/he cupped his pale face in her hands "What do you say, cutie?"  
  
Percy squeezed his eyes shut before opening them to look straight into Rita/Ricky's greenish-blue eyes.  
  
"I'll agree if you pay for all my class all the way until I graduate in about two or three years, then you give me a shot at being a professional reporter, a column in the Daily Prophets, not a stupid one either, a real story, front page."  
  
Rita paused to think for a few seconds, "You drive a hard bargain, deal, but before I give you anything, I think I should take you for a test drive first, see if you're worth it."  
  
At that point, Percy licked his lips and shook off his uncertainty and cupped Rita's angular face. "Oh, I'm worth it" he said.  
  
"Why don't you your money where your mouth is huh? Get down there and suck my cock."  
  
"Yes sir ...um, I mean ma'am" he said as he got down on his hands and knees, lift up the robe and skirt, removed the underwear and began his first taste.  
  
!End Flashback!  
  
Percy smiled at the memory.  
  
"You can't fire me Rita, you love my pretty ass too much, now get up." He said as he began to drag the cross dresser out of bed.  
  
It amazing how far they've gone since then. Now they were in love and they were happy together.  
  
"Just give me five more minutes Percy please," Rita pleaded sleepily  
  
"If I give you five more minutes, you won't have time to put on all your make up. Do we really have to go through this every morning?"  
  
"Yes,"  
  
Percy sighed. They were gonna be late. Again.  
  
TBC 


End file.
